Full Circle (Moving On, Part 4)
by GildaMulberry
Summary: Set after Series 4. Camille returns to Saint Marie for a holiday... There are unresolved issues waiting for her. - Sequel to "Intermezzo in London" (rated M). Can be read independently, but it makes a lot more sense if you know the other stories prior to this. - - Fourth and final part of the 'Moving On' series - Details of TV series might be altered, this is AU :-)
1. Back to the Island

Chapter 1 – Back to the Island

It was late December, Christmas was just over. The little pillows in the aircraft were encased in holiday themed covers – Father Christmas, reindeers, stars and mistletoes. Camille took one of them and stuffed it between between her neighbour's shoulder and her head – maybe this would do the trick, and she'd finally get some rest. It was a 9 hour flight from Paris to Saint Marie, less than half of it was over, and she was tired. The past few days had been wonderful, but also exhausting…

Once again, Camille was on a plane … It seemed like she was constantly travelling these days!

This time, she was going to Saint Marie, and she was not on her own. Together with her three companions, she was sitting in one of the the centre rows on the aircraft, trying to sleep a little. The aisle seats were occupied by two gentlemen – one was early middle age, the other one elderly, but not frail. Both had the same amazing green eyes and wore the same expression of resignation mixed with a slight crankiness, so it was easy to see that they were father and son. Next to Camille, in the other centre seat, an elderly lady with friendly grey eyes was leafing through a magazine.

Camille – in jeans and a navy blue sweatshirt - closed her eyes, pulled up the blanket that the flight attendant had given her, and snuggled up to the pillow.

Richard shifted a little so it was more comfortable for her and slipped his hand under the blanket to hold hers. She squeezed his fingers lightly and smiled when she touched his ring.

Her husband… she was relishing the word, repeating it in her mind, spelling it out, emphasising the different syllables… in French and in English, several times, over and over. It was amazing how much happiness and satisfaction this was bringing her!

She felt giddy at the thought of being a "wife" now… Richard's wife. Who would have thought that would happen so quickly after her move to Europe?

Her mind wandered back to the last weekend of November… it had happened to be the first weekend of this year's Advent season. They had come home from one of the Christmas markets that had become so popular over the past few years. Paris had several Christmas markets, and they had explored a smaller one that was held on a small square not far from the Musée d'Orsay. It had been crowded, but fun – Richard hadn't been so keen on joining the masses for this event, but even he had enjoyed the atmosphere and the different stalls.

As they had left the grounds and moved on to cross the street to get to their metro station, they had witnessed an accident – a young man hadn't been careful and got hit by a car. His partner had screamed and started to cry, someone had called an ambulance. A doctor in the crowd had come to help and get the young man comfortable, and Camille had comforted the young woman - she had held her hand until the ambulance had arrived and the paramedics had taken care of the injured man. When he had been taken away, the woman had thanked Camille and hopped into the car… The crowd had started to dissolve, and an old lady next to Camille had casually said "I hope they are married. Otherwise, she'll have a hard time making the doctors tell her what's happening to him…"

Camille had translated this to Richard later on. His French had become considerably better over the past months – thanks to the regular meetings in Paris and the weekends he had spent there, he had picked up quite a bit. Plus he practiced by watching French TV. But he still couldn't understand everything, particularly if people talked quickly and used colloquial language or abbreviations. His accent left a lot to be desired – much to his frustration! - but people acknowledged that he made an effort, and often they answered him in English to make it easier for him or spoke slowly so he could understand.

The old lady's words had made them both think. They had remembered how he had been taken away in an ambulance on Saint Marie, and how Camille had only received information from the doctors because she worked for the police.

On the metro back home, they had talked about other things, but when they had eaten dinner and cuddled up on the sofa afterwards, they had returned to the topic of the accident, and Richard had said thoughtfully "That old lady has a point. Just imagine, how awful it must be when your partner has an accident or is taken seriously ill, and you can't get information because you're not related or married… that's horrible!" Camille had nodded and confirmed "Terrifying. I don't even want to think about it!"

After a few minutes, Richard had continued "Camille, if anything ever happened to you over here I would panic – and I think I wouldn't even know how to make myself understood. And they wouldn't be obliged to give me information or get it translated for me because we're not married." He had taken her hand and said once again "Awful."

When they had had breakfast on the next morning and Camille had turned to do the washing up, Richard had taken a dishtowel and started to polish a plate. Camille could see that some cogwheels had begun to move in his head, and she had waited for him to tell her what was on his mind.

Finally, he had come out with it and asked "Why aren't we getting married now, Camille?" She had stared at him, not quite sure if she had understood him. He had set the plate on the worktop, put his hands on her shoulders and said "What are we waiting for? I mean, where's the point? We want to get married, don't we, and neither you nor myself are keen on a big wedding, anyway, so we might as well get it done quietly now… What do you think?"

She hadn't quite known what to say. On one hand, he had been right – they didn't want a big fancy do. On the other hand, she had known that his parents as well as her mother would be disappointed – and she hadn't wanted that, either.

Before she had been able to express her thoughts, he had understood. His fingers had slid down her arms, and he had taken her wet, soapy hands in his. "We could have a small civil ceremony here, together with Mum and Dad, and then we'll go on our holiday on Saint Marie, just the way we had planned, anyway – and your mother could arrange a party there, combined with a blessing in church or whatever they call it – so the party would be some kind of reception …."

They both had agreed a few months ago that they wouldn't really want to have a church wedding with the usual paraphernalia. Camille was Catholic, and Richard was Church of England, and neither of them was a regular church goer or firmly 'rooted' in their faith. Richard had said that he refused to use the church as a stage for a "show", set up for a large audience, and Camille had fully understood his point of view. She saw it the same way. To her, getting married was about the promise, not about the dress, the flowers or the gifts.

Once the idea had been planted into their heads, it hadn't left them alone any more. By the end of the weekend, Camille had agreed to sort out the formalities and find out which documents they'd need to get married in a civil ceremony, preferably before the holidays, so they could go to Saint Marie with Margaret and Robert and celebrate with their friends there.

Margaret had loved the idea of going back to the Caribbean under more positive circumstances, and Robert also had been interested to see where his son had spent two years of his life, so it hadn't been too hard to convince them.

The trip had been planned several months ago already – Robert and Margaret had been so disappointed when their plans to travel to Italy in the summer had fallen through, so Richard and Camille had asked them if they wanted to come with them to Saint Marie.

They hadn't known it would be their honeymoon at that point – but since Richard's parents were rather independent, all would be easy. They wouldn't expect their son and Camille to wait on them and be at their beck and call all the time – they'd go their own ways and spend time on their own or with acquaintances that they'd make, too.

They had figured that Catherine, Camille's mother, would perhaps be a little miffed because she couldn't attend her only daughter's wedding - but then again, she had always been supportive, so with some luck, she would just accept their decision and make the best of it by organising a nice party with all their friends.

And indeed, when they had mentioned it to her, she had been all supportive, saying that they should do what was best for them, and as long as they'd let her plan a party for them, she'd be happy.

Camille was very grateful for her mother's relaxed attitude. She had asked her mother to invite the current team of the police station, including the Commissioner – she and Richard owed him so much! – and she also wanted her to invite the Bests. She knew that Fidel and Juliet would come over from St. Lucia for the holidays – she was still in touch with them, and Fidel had been excited to learn that they would come to visit this time, too. He hadn't seen Camille in a year, and the last he had seen of Richard had been when he had been transported to hospital – and everyone had thought he was dead. That had been almost 2 years ago…

Since then, a lot had happened. Camille had moved to Europe half a year ago so she could be near Richard. During the past months, she had worked partly in the UK, partly in France – she had become a member of the international department and mostly focused on teaching in the UK, in Richard's team – who was now the deputy of the Crime Academy's department that organised courses and lectures for the Met. Camille had been promoted to "Lieutenant de Police" in the "Corps de commandement" of the Police Nationale – and Richard had delightedly started to call her "Inspecteur" in private, although that was not the official form of address any longer these days.

She also had administrative tasks in the French department. Her boss, a very lenient man named Leblanc, was very pleased with her performance – Camille was full of energy and had come up with a cartload of suggestions to improve and change things. Some of them even had been realised… Leblanc's superior, Madame Dubois, was just as bossy as Camille, but since they respected each other, they got on amazingly well, so Leblanc pretty much had no chance when the two of them had set their mind on something. The truth was that he didn't care – as long as they let him live and brought him the occasional treat to bribe him, he didn't mind.

So, she had been commuting to London regularly where she held classes, and Richard had come to Paris for meetings and conferences… that way, they had seen each other regularly.

It could get a little hectic, and it wasn't always easy, but they made the best of it. At least they weren't separated for months any more, and there was only one hour time difference now. Compared to what they had had to go through with Camille on Saint Marie and Richard in the UK, this was nothing, and they were happy. It never occurred to them to complain about the arrangement – all things considered, it was perfect for the moment.

Sometimes, they had the chance to spend two entire weeks together, at other times, it was a week per month – and they usually managed to spend two weekends per month together, at least. They went to museums or exhibits together, Richard met Camille's old and new friends, Camille had started to go running while Richard attended the tai chi classes he had taken up again, they went walking, hiking and bicycling… or they just spent time together in Richard's house or Camille's flat, reading, watching TV, pottering around and wasting time together. So, all in all, they had developed a nice little routine, both in Paris and in London.

They had got engaged in the summer, when Camille had come over from Saint Marie, and while they had tried to keep it a secret for as long as possible, it had finally come out in autumn.

One day in October, Sergeant Liz Andrews had admired Camille's beautiful ring – it didn't really look like an engagement ring, though - that had been one of the reasons why they had been able to hide it for so long.

Andrews had asked innocently if Camille had got it in France because it had a special something about it, and Camille – who had been thinking about an incident in class that morning - had replied absentmindedly "No, Richard got it here in London". With that, she had blown it, and there was no way to take it back.

The young woman had beamed at her and said "So, you and the Chief are engaged? Blimey, I should have known…" And she had told her how she had seen Richard and Camille walking away from the station one day in summer… his arm had been around her shoulders, and they had chatted and laughed together.

"That didn't look much like you were friends," Andrews had said. "No, I can imagine," Camille had replied, a little embarrassed. "And you know, it's obvious that he's a lot more relaxed when you are around," the red-headed sergeant had mentioned – and hastened to add "I don't mean to be disrespectful, but you know how – er – irritable he can be sometimes…"

Camille had just pulled a face and said "No worries, Liz – I know… Who else has a hunch, for that matter?"

"Oh, I haven't mentioned it to anyone… do you think the Chief would appreciate if we…"

"No," Camille had replied before Liz Andrews had been able to finish her question. "Definitely not. You're talking about a man who dodged his own birthday party. He's not keen on being the centre of attention, so you wouldn't do him a favour by arranging a surprise party. Just ignore it if you can – he'd be dead embarrassed if you organised anything…"

Nevertheless, Liz Andrews had been determined to do something. She really liked Richard, and she adored Camille. As it had turned out later, she had discussed the issue with the other sergeants who shared the office with her, and she and Shaw had made the rounds in the department, collecting money for a gift voucher. Everybody had contributed happily – Richard was much more popular than he knew, and Camille's warmth and friendliness had conquered people's hearts quickly.

Superintendent Potter – the 'man with the shocking socks', as Camille liked to call him secretly – apparently had arched his eyebrows so they had almost reached his receding hairline when Shaw had knocked on his door to ask for a donation, then taken out his wallet and laconically put a banknote in the piggy bank that had made Michael's eyes pop out of his head. Wow, the Superintendent was feeling generous, indeed!

Potter, by the same token, had smiled inwardly. He had been suspicious from the start, but they had never let on that they were more than friends and good colleagues. Poole and Bordey had proved that they both had discipline and professionalism, and Potter had found that impressive and commendable.

Thanks to his bountiful contribution, a generous gift card for one of the most upscale restaurants in the area had been purchased, and one morning – when Camille and Richard had entered the department's meeting room together, ready for the forthcoming talks and acting all professionally – they had been greeted by the entire team standing up in a row, with Potter at the end of the line, holding a gift bag with a bottle of champagne, a card and the gift voucher in one hand and a little flower bouquet in the other.

They had been speechless – then Richard's face had turned crimson, Camille had beamed, and Potter had cleared his throat. He had said "We know you don't like to make a fuss, so we're not making one, either. We've heard from reliable sources that you – er – got engaged, and we'd like to congratulate you and wish you all the best for a happy future together…"

With that, he had given Camille the flowers, with a respectful nod and a brief "Inspector", and Richard had been handed the gift bag, with a twinkle and a sly grin… Everybody had clapped their hands and cheered, and for a moment, Richard had looked like he wished for the ground to swallow him up.

Camille had surreptitiously taken his hand, and Richard had tried to say something, but it had taken him two attempts to finally utter a feeble "Thank you – er – I don't quite know what to say… It's very – er – kind of you…" Andrews had nudged Shaw and furtively pointed her chin at Richard's fingers fumbling around nervously with the handles of the gift bag, and Shaw had suppressed a grin. He had remembered how he had picked up Camille at the airport a few months ago – back then, he had wondered how she and the Chief might be connected… Neither of them had ever let on anything, but now that they had been caught off guard, their feelings had become more than obvious…

Potter had then left the meeting room, they all had sat down, and Richard had cleared his throat to go ahead with the agenda.

And that had been all.

But there hadn't been a single person in the room who hadn't been touched by the glance that Richard and Camille had exchanged when Potter had spoken up and they had understood what this gathering had been about. They had looked at one another with unconcealed love… and Liz Andrews had taken out a tissue to dab her eyes.

After that, it had been business as usual, but something had shifted. Now, that they had been out in the open, so to speak, they had talked about getting married more often. And the weekend of the Christmas market had been the final straw.

Much to Camille's surprise, everything had worked out – and things had proceeded quickly! They had been able to get an appointment for a civil ceremony on the Friday afternoon just before Christmas – the clerk in charge had said that nobody wanted to get married at that time of the year, so they even could choose the time – and Richard and his parents had come over the evening before by train. They had brought along their luggage for the trip to Saint Marie as they'd leave right after the holidays.

Robert and Margaret had stayed in a hotel in Paris, and on the Friday, after Camille had finished her work and got changed – she had left early so she'd have time enough – they all had gone to the small town hall of the district where they lived… and she and Richard had got married. Besides the registrar, a translator had been present, but other than that, it had only been Camille, Richard and his parents – who also had acted as witnesses.

Camille had worn an elegant suit in a becoming dark shade of rose, and Richard had looked very handsome in a dark three piece suit, white dress shirt and a tie that matched Camille's attire. There had also been a small bouquet of cream coloured roses, but given the fact that they'd leave for Saint Marie so soon, Camille had insisted that getting a big bouquet would be a waste of money… Richard had smiled at this pragmatic approach, and Margaret's objections had remained unheeded. They had chosen simple golden wedding bands, nothing glitzy or flashy, and Camille now wore her engagement ring on one hand and the wedding band on the other.

Christmas had been celebrated in their small flat. As Robert's and Margaret's hotel had been located just around the corner, they had sat up until the wee hours, talked and laughed… and Camille couldn't help but remember last Christmas. It had been then that Richard and she had really jumped into the deep end together – they really had committed to one another then… and everything had changed in their lives…

And now they were on the plane to Saint Marie… She felt Richard's hand holding hers under the blanket, lightly – yet reliably - , and she smiled happily as she slowly drifted away into dreamland.


	2. Safely Landed

Chapter 2 – Safely Landed

The aircraft was getting ready for landing, and Richard moved gently to fasten his seatbelt and wake up Camille so she could buckle up, too. His parents were already awake, and his mother made a remark about how glad she was that the flight was coming to an end. Richard silently agreed with her. He was trying not to think of the heat and the humidity that he'd have to face once they'd be outside. He was glad that he didn't wear a woollen suit this time… that had clearly made his time on Saint Marie more miserable than necessary.

This time, however, he was here for holidays, so he could wear more casual clothing. It still would be hot and troublesome, but at least he wouldn't have to suffer sweating bullets in a stupid suit, and someone else would sweep out the sand. And he wouldn't have to spend his nights in the company of a green lizard in a stuffy shack on the beach. No, he'd stay in a nice little hotel that had comfortable, air-conditioned rooms and modern amenities, and his wife – who happened to be the most beautiful woman he had ever met – would be with him.

Camille had booked them into a family run hotel in Honoré, near the beach. They had only about 12 rooms. Actually, these rooms were more like bungalows, spread out in a landscaped area right near the beach. A restaurant that also was used as breakfast room was part of the hotel, too. The beach was public, but the hotel gave out sunbeds and beach umbrellas for a small fee, and there was a little bar as well, so everything would be very comfortable.

Richard knew the place, although he had never really been inside. The bungalows looked nice on the website, they were private, they were air-conditioned, there was a kitchen cabinet as well where you could store snacks and put the kettle on for some tea and a fridge for storing cold drinks… so he hadn't had any objections when Camille had suggested the place once they had started to make plans for the trip in October.

He had been surprised at first that she didn't want to stay at one of the posh resorts – after all, it was their first real holiday trip together, apart from brief weekend getaways, and he had been ready and willing to splurge on it. Not that he would have cared much about all the extras, but he had thought she might want to get massages, enjoy spa treatments or try a new watersport, but no…

She had been a bit "hum and haw" about her reasons for a while, muttering that she'd feel like an alien on her home island if they stayed in a resort, but then she finally had blurted out "Well, you don't want your _fiancée_ to be mistaken for the maid, do you?"

He had been flabbergasted, but then she had gone on to explain "You remember all the fancy places where people got killed… like the bride in our first real case together? All the paying guests were rich white people, and the maids and staff – including that butler! - were Caribbean. Obviously – because the resorts mostly employ locals, particularly in the housekeeping department. There wasn't a single Caribbean guest, and I got some really funny looks when I went there for investigations. It seemed it was only acceptable that I showed up there when I was with you or flashed my police badge… That doesn't sound so great, does it? The hotel I want us to book is middle class, and they have guests from the Caribbean – not from Saint Marie, obviously, but from Guadeloupe, Martinique, Antigua and other islands -, the UK, France and the States, so it's more of a mixed crowd… and I wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb…"

Interesting enough, he had never seen it that way as he didn't really think in those categories (well, if they wanted to talk about categories, he had always thought of her as 'French'!), but once she had pointed it out, he had understood. He had mentioned the spa treatments, massages and watersports to her, however – and she had snuggled up to him and said (apparently entirely seriously!) "Well, I could always book a surfboard or some other device at another place, and I'm hopeful that if I behave myself, you could be convinced to give me a massage… or some other entirely personalised wellness treatment… what do you think?"

He had arched his eyebrows and said with his most solemn voice "I will consider it… but you'll really have to make an effort to be on your best behaviour!" She had punched him, and they had ended up in a turbulent mock fight – that he had won because he had tickled her mercilessly until she had been out of breath.

Camille had brought so much laughter into his life… Richard still was a stickler for details, cranky, reserved and stuffy at times, but in general, he was much more relaxed now, and his deadpan humour came out more and more often. He hadn't noticed, but his team in the International Department had, and they all had agreed on how he looked so much younger and more relaxed now that he was obviously happy.

He also was more physically active now – the doctors in rehab had advised him to exercise more regularly, and he had taken their advice to heart (literally… after the stabbing, he had gone through cardiac arrest, and exercising had been vital in rehab), so he had taken up a few activities, and he was in better shape now than he had been when he had lived on Saint Marie. So, that added to his more positive presence as well.

He hadn't been in the department for very long yet before Camille had arrived, but he had had the reputation of being overly correct, starchy, eccentric and peculiar. Nevertheless, his immediate co-workers as well as Superintendent Potter hadn't found him all that difficult to work with – he could be a bit of a pain sometimes, but he also was reliable and absolutely fair…

And Richard liked working in this department… teaching was more his thing than he had anticipated, and he didn't mind any more having to go to the occasional 'event' where he had to represent the police. He had realised that there was truth in the old saying that practice makes perfect. He'd never like having to butter up people, but he was good in rational discussions and could convince people with facts – so buttering them up wasn't all that necessary, after all… He had really been lucky with how things had developed for him. He had gone through rough times – but it had all worked out well in the end.

He was deeply grateful for how his life had unfolded…

In the meantime, the plane had landed, and the passengers all headed to the hall where the evil luggage carousel was waiting.

Richard's mind returned to reality and its immediate challenges. Well, hopefully, his luggage would arrive this time around and not disappear… He had flown to Saint Marie twice before, and both times his suitcase had vanished. Maybe, today, the spell would be broken, and he'd experience a caseof third time lucky…

Florence Cassell glanced at the clock in the departure hall of the small Saint Marie airport. Well, the notion 'departure hall' was an exaggeration. Actually, there only was one hall for arrivals and departures. It was divided into two by a row of potted plants, so you could walk freely between both sections. Saint Marie wasn't particularly well-known for its accuracy when it came to following 'rules' and 'orders', and that was mirrored in its public buildings.

She sighed and turned around. It was always hard to say farewell to a loved one… She had just taken one of her domineering older brothers – she had five of them! – to the airport, together with his family, and said goodbye… they had come over for the holidays, and it had been such fun to have them around. However, if she was entirely honest… it was also good to see them go again!

Donny's wife Celia was nice, but a little haughty sometimes, and the kids were developing rapidly into spoilt brats. Most of the time, Florence didn't mind, but it could get a bit annoying in the long run. She hadn't had any privacy since the two little girls had occupied her room during their stay, and they had enjoyed turning everything upside down. She had hidden her make-up, the nail polish, her mp3 player and all other things that she hadn't wanted them to put their hands on, but still they had created an incredible mess in her room.

She shuddered when she remembered how Sissy and Minnie had tried on all her bras and dragged them around in the house – they were only 9 and 7, so they didn't need a bra yet, but they had thought it was funny to dig into their aunt's box of underwear. Donny had only laughed, and Celia had raised her eyebrows, making snarky remarks about Florence's colourful lingerie. It had been really, really annoying.

She loved them, anyway. Family was very important to her. Only recently, she had wished she could escape the hustle and bustle at home every once in a while. Her brothers all had flown the nest, but while Donny – the eldest – and Marvin had left the island and lived on Antigua and Martinique respectively, the others still lived on Saint Marie (though not in Honoré, fortunately!) and came to visit the parents regularly, sometimes with their spouses and children, sometimes by themselves. She was the only one who still lived at home. She was in her mid 20s, single and unattached, and her parents wouldn't hear of her moving away to live on her own.

The way it was, she couldn't even date anybody seriously at this point as everyone she might want to see would have to meet her parents immediately (and would perhaps get scared away!), and she couldn't take anybody home with her to just sit and talk… or spend the night… if things ever got that far. But for the moment, she didn't have any other choice… She spent a lot of her spare time with her team, anyway, and maybe something would come up for her so she could get her own space. It had been a lucky strike to land a job here in Honoré, and she loved it, but in some ways, it would have been better to get a position on another island…

Ah well. It was useless to dwell on that. She crossed the line of potted plants to go and get her favourite magazine at the newsstand. It was imported from France, so a lot of places didn't supply it, and she could only rely on getting it here – and since she was here now, that was the perfect opportunity.

The newsstand was at the other end of the hall. She saw a bunch of passengers coming out of the hall where the luggage carousel was located. Those were apparently the laggers of the flight that had arrived from France a while ago…

That reminded her of Catherine Bordey's invitation for dinner on the next evening… Catherine had invited her and the complete team so they could celebrate Camille's return to the island – for a holiday only, but she had been away for half a year, and Catherine was excited to have her back, even if it would only be for two weeks…. So she wanted to celebrate.

Florence had offered to pick up Camille, but Catherine had turned down the offer as Camille would be coming with 'friends' and share a rental car with them to get to her accommodation – an enigmatic smile had been on her face when she had disclosed this to Florence. Her colleague JP had been relieved to hear that he wouldn't have to give up his room – he currently lived in Catherine's house, in the room that had been Camille's before she had left for her new job in France…

Obviously, she was coming over with several people, and whoever it was, Florence hoped they would be good company and keep Camille busy… She liked her, really, and she was looking forward to seeing her again and hearing about her adventures, but the atmosphere in the team had shifted since she had left, and everything had become so much easier – especially now that a few months had passed, and Camille's overwhelming shadow had began to fade a little… so her own light had had a chance to shine a little more…

And sometimes she had felt that her boss had developed deeper feelings for her – although she couldn't be sure… In any case, they spent a lot of time together, and he was lots of fun to be with. So, that was nice – and it made going to work so much more enjoyable!

Besides her, there was only one more customer at the newsstand – a middle aged gentleman with thinning hair and light skin, dressed in dark chinos and a light blue shirt with short sleeves. The top button of his shirt was open, a grey jumper was placed around his shoulders, and he carried a black duffle bag. He finally picked a home decoration magazine – not quite what Florence would have expected, considering his appearance and demeanour. She had figured he'd purchase one of the computer magazines. Well, that was another lesson in "don't judge a book by the cover". He wasn't the type for "Men's Health", but "Metropolitan Home" still seemed like an odd choice…

Whatever… Florence pulled out her phone to see if she had received any text messages and slowly ambled to the cashier.

The other customer stood in front of her, awkwardly fiddling around with his wallet until he had finally paid his purchase and then turned around to leave – and much to Florence's embarrassment, that was when her attempt at multi tasking – juggling the phone, her water bottle and the magazine in one hand as well as trying to fix her barrette and clip her hair into place with the other hand – failed epically and everything fell to the floor.

The gentleman reacted immediately – before Florence could even think about making a move, he had bent down to help her pick up her belongings, and then they both were crouching on the floor for a moment. When they were standing up again and Florence began to thank her saviour, she looked into the most amazing green eyes she had ever seen – she was so stunned that she stopped mid-sentence. An amused glance met her eyes, and the man just nodded and said quietly, with a crisp British accent, "You are welcome" before he turned around and disappeared.

Open-mouthed, Florence stood and watched him stride away into the direction of the rental car counter… he stood there for a moment, nodded as the clerk behind the counter explained something to him and then marched out of the hall. Florence hurried to pay her magazine and went after him to thank him more properly, but all she could see was that he opened the door to sit on the passenger seat of a car that was waiting for him – and then the car zoomed off.

She shook her head and tried to shrug off the incident. But she couldn't help it, those eyes came back to haunt her all evening long.

Richard, however, had forgotten all about the incident the moment he had left the newsstand. He had other things on his mind. Much to his surprise, his case had been delivered this time around… so at least he wouldn't have to spend the first few days on Saint Marie in the same clothes. Or – probably worse – in bright coloured, island-y shirts, as Camille had threatened. He knew that she knew that he disliked them, and he hoped that she wouldn't go and buy him a bunch of those ghastly garments, but with her, you never could be sure.

As a precaution, he had packed a few extra items in his hand luggage, anyway, so he would be prepared for the worst case scenario. Camille had teased him to no end about his obsession and laughed triumphantly when his case had showed up as one of the first on the carousel, but he had just snorted at her and ignored her remarks.

They had all been on the way to the rental car counter when his mother had suddenly turned around to ask him if he could do her a favour and get a magazine for her as she hadn't packed a book… so he had sighed and gone back to the newsstand. Camille had taken it upon her to fill out all the forms, load her parents-in-law in a taxi, along with their suitcases, and pick up the car that they would use during their stay. They had agreed on renting only one car between the four of them, but it wasn't big enough for four people and four suitcases, so for the transport from the airport to Honoré (and back), a taxi was needed.

When Richard finally came out of the building, the horn of a waiting car sounded impatiently, and with a smile, he opened the door to the passenger side and jumped in.

A split second later, the car spurted off, and two seconds later, he found himself barking at Camille "Really, Camille, how do you do that – you manage to hit the only pothole on this goddamn route! Hasn't your stay in Europe taught you how to drive in a more civilised manner?"

She retorted with a gleam in her eyes "You've only just arrived, and you're already grumpy – if you don't behave yourself, I'll stop right here and leave you in the shrubbery!"

He pulled a face, and she gave him a sideways glance. She couldn't help but laugh when she saw the look in his eyes. It said wordlessly, but very clearly that he wasn't grumpy… but he didn't dare to open his mouth and say it. You never knew with Camille…

"Don't worry, Richard – I may be evil, but I'm not that bad…"

"You are, and you know it," he replied sulkingly. "And I know all about it, too. Don't forget that I worked with you for two years over here… You always took me to places I didn't want to go to!"

"Ah yes, that's right… thanks for reminding me! Somehow that seems so far away that it has escaped my mind," she responded flippantly, looked into the rear mirror and suddenly pulled into a small side street where she shut off the engine. For a moment, Richard wondered what she was up to, but he didn't have to wait for very long to be enlightened.

Camille released her seatbelt and turned to him, a little smile on her face. She shifted in her seat, grabbed the seam of her sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. She wore a bright yellow camisole underneath, a golden chain was around her neck, with a small pendant tantalisingly dangling an inch away from her neckline – an emerald set in gold, matching her engagement ring. This had been Richard's wedding gift for her.

His eyes got wide as she got rid of the sweatshirt and threw it on the backseat.

"Ah, this is so much better. It's hot, even with the A/C on…" she sighed with relief and then laughed when she saw him looking at her in confusion. "Oh Richard – if you could see the look on your face! Well, where were we? Oh… yes… I had almost forgotten that we've worked together here on Saint Marie… And you always were horribly grumpy! But things are different now, aren't they, Richard?" A little smile appeared on her face. "And I can do now what I should have done much, much earlier already… say, three years ago or so… and you're not going to run away or get all flustered…"

And with that, she leant over to kiss him tenderly. Her hand curled around his neck, and he just hoped she had pulled the hand brake properly. Then he didn't really waste any more time on rational thinking and kissed her back – with much feeling. Camille's left hand was in his hair, and he felt her fingers stroking the nape of his neck, the other one caressed his flank, then moved to his chest, flipped another button of his shirt open – then he caught it before she could venture further.

When she broke away, she whispered "Welcome back to Saint Marie, Richard…", and he smiled and replied softly "Thank you. So much better than the original welcome all those years ago…"

She laughed and touched his temple with her lips, asking "Do you think you would have liked it better here if I had greeted you like this?" He chuckled in response and said "Probably. But all I got when I arrived was the Commissioner shaking his head in disbelief and Lily rolling her eyes at the sight of me… not exactly enticing, you know!" She smiled, and they kissed once again.

A few minutes later, they continued their trip to Honoré – in companionable silence, both smiling happily.

This would be a fun holiday – for both of them.


	3. Settling In

Chapter 3 – Settling In

Upon their arrival at the hotel, they were greeted by the receptionist – a cousin of the owner, as it turned out when they were chatting a little. She had just moved to Saint Marie from Guadeloupe. Since she didn't know Camille or Richard, it didn't occur to her that she missed out on a good piece of fodder for gossip when Richard filled in the registration form, entered his full name, checked the "accompanying spouse" box and added Camille's name in the required section.

They got their keys and were informed that Richard's parents – who had arrived a little earlier - had the bungalow next to them. A young man came with a luggage cart and took their suitcases to the room. Richard gave him a generous tip – he knew that Camille was watching him, and after all, he would see the guy regularly over the next fortnight, so it couldn't hurt to make a good impression. It didn't matter that he could have taken his case to the room by himself – he had learnt by now that things just weren't going that way over here.

A flower arrangement and a fruit basket were waiting for them – along with a big cardboard box. Camille squealed with delight when she saw her mother's handwriting on the label – she knew precisely what was inside. "My summer wardrobe!" she exclaimed.

Richard looked at her in lack of understanding, and so she explained "You know I only took along some basic clothes and a few favourites when I left Saint Marie – I knew I would have to get a new wardrobe, and with the seasons changing over there, it didn't make much sense to pack too much of my stuff, anyway. But Maman kept everything, and when I told her we'd come over, she said she'd send it my way. I thought I'd have to look through it all at her house, but of course, it's so much more convenient that I can do that here! That way, we can do it at our own pace, and you can help me to decide what to keep and what to discard!"

Richard felt another fashion show coming up, and while he generally didn't mind, he wasn't in the mood for it just right now. So he pretended to be enthusiastic, but said thoughtfully "Mind you, Camille, why don't we do that later when we have rested a little bit? Or maybe tomorrow? You don't want me to fall asleep while you're changing clothes, do you… I'm really quite tired now, and I'm afraid I couldn't do it all any justice…"

Camille was a little disappointed, but gave in. "Right… I understand. Look, Richard, I'll check on your parents, and then we'll rest a little… Maybe we can have a drink later on?" He nodded, and Camille went off to look what her parents-in-law were doing.

They had already unpacked most of their stuff, Robert had sat down with a book on the bungalow's little veranda, and Margaret was inside, hanging clothes into the closet. "Oh, Camille – good to see you! You seem all happy and bouncy – I can imagine you're excited to be home again! Listen, Robert and I are fairly knackered, but we'd love to have dinner with you later. The receptionist told me that the restaurant will open at 7, so what do you think about meeting up at 7.30 for a drink and going to dinner then? I'm afraid we need some time to ourselves now – we're not as young any more as we used to be, and we both feel a bit – er – shattered."

It was a few minutes past five, so that would give them enough time to relax and rest. They agreed on getting together at the beach bar at 7.30, and Camille returned to their room – where she found Richard sound asleep on the bed, snoring faintly. As she had slept during the flight, she wasn't overly tired at this point. Plus, she was excited. She quietly grabbed the box her mother had sent and hauled it over so it was near the closet. She knew what she was looking for… No, not this one – not today… and not that one, either. Ah, there it was… With a triumphant smile she pulled out the garment in question, put it on a hanger in the closet and closed the box again. The rest of the clothes could wait…

When Richard woke up from her hand touching his shoulder, he was confused at first and couldn't quite figure out where he was. He struggled a little to open his eyes… Camille was kneeling next to the bed, a big towel wrapped around her, and said "Come on, darling… time to get ready… I've put out fresh clothes for you, they are waiting for you in the bathroom. I have already showered, so you can freshen up now and go to the bar while I get dressed and follow you when I'm finished, okay?" Groggily, he grunted his assent and wandered off to the bathroom.

When he came out again, showered, dressed and presentable, Camille was still wrapped in the towel, drying and styling her hair. Now, that could take a little while… he knew that much from experience. He watched her for a moment, then said with a resigned voice "Right… I'll leave you alone with your hairbrush and make up and all that now, and we'll see each other down at the beach…" She nodded, turned to kiss him on the cheek and continued to work on her hair with the blowdryer.

"Women," Richard muttered to himself as he made his way to the beach bar. It was way too early, anyway… they had agreed on 7.30, hadn't they, and it was a few minutes before 7 now… Although he was a little miffed, he wasn't seriously upset. It was better to be a little early, that way they would perhaps have a few minutes to themselves before his parents arrived.

He ordered a beer, found a table on the patio that was part of the bar and sat to face the ocean, listening to the waves lapping on the beach. He had missed this… he had to admit it to himself. It didn't surprise him that Camille found peace on the beach. Personally, he didn't care for the sand and all that, but the sound of the waves – that was a different thing… He had listened to them so often on the veranda of his shack…

In the background, Van Morrison was singing "Someone like you", Richard hummed along, lost in memories - and suddenly, he heard her voice behind him… alluring, almost seductive…

"Well, hello… do you happen to wait for me?" she asked softly.

Quickly, he turned around to face her – and there she was… wearing the lovely coral red dress that she had worn for the welcome party she had arranged when he had returned from London all that time ago… that dress that resembled the fancy red one she had worn for the Erzulie festival, but still was different. Softer. Less 'obvious', but still enticing. Oh yes… very much so! He had never seen her wearing it again afterwards. But then… he had been gone not so long after that welcome party.

Her hair was too short now to pin it up properly, but she had styled it in a curly bob, her lips were soft and glossy, and she was literally glowing with anticipation and love. Their first evening together again on Saint Marie – that was special and needed to get celebrated!

She looked amazing, and he stood up, totally gobsmacked, and stuttered "Wow… Camille… you look stunning!" The moment he said it, he realised that he had said the very same thing all that time ago when she had shown up at her mother's bar for the blind date during the Erzulie festival… Her smile told him that she remembered it, too, and she sat down and said "Well… that's a good beginning! A handsome man waiting for me, telling me I'm stunning – you don't get that every day. - I think I'll have a cocktail…" That last part was directed at the girl who had come to ask for her wishes.

The bartender was quick to mix her drink, and so they sat there together, looking happily at one another.

She took a sip of her drink and said thoughtfully "Mind you, you only said that once… when I wore this dress, all you did was ogle…"

He arched his eyebrows in mock indignation and replied "I do not ogle, Camille…" "Well, maybe not today, but you did back then!" He huffed at her and said "I didn't ogle. I looked at you appreciatevely. As I do now. And I didn't say anything back then because I was scared you would disappear. You looked like a dream! The airline had lost my suitcase, the Commissioner had just bored me with a long monologue to shut me up, and I was dead tired. Seeing you in that dress was out of this world. How could I have said anything that would have done you justice?" Or anything that wouldn't have sounded completely stupid, he added inwardly… He had been completely dazed by the sight of her.

"You were more – um… - articulate when I wore that other dress. Did you like that one better?" She was now openly teasing him.

He flashed her a smile and said "You know very well that you look ravishing in any dress. You just took me by surprise that night… I wasn't prepared for seeing you like that… and the words had come out of my mouth before I had known it…"

His thoughts went back to that evening. How he had wished her date would not show up… not that she would have wanted to spend the evening with him, anyway, but it had been nice to imagine it. Feeling guilty, he had entertained thoughts like that over the rest of the evening… and hadn't really grasped much of what he had been reading that night while babysitting Rosie.

With one hand she was holding her glass, her other hand was on the table. He covered it with his and said gently "I wish your mother had matched up the two of us that night… Do you think that we would have had a good time together? Or would we have argued?"

She smiled and said "I honestly don't know, Richard. All I know is that I wished you had been my date… And when you returned from London, I wished you'd let me take you home and asked me to stay with you. But whatever, that's in the past, and there's no point in dwelling on what could have been. I'm only happy that we are together now… despite all the obstacles we've had to face…"

They were still sitting like this, holding hands, when his parents came. Margaret and Robert stopped when they saw them at their table, and his arm came around his wife's shoulders. "Can you believe that this is Richard?" he whispered in her ear. She smiled, looked up to him and said softly "Yes, I can. He's just like you, Robert – it's hard to win his affection and trust, but once he has settled for someone, he has no eyes for anybody else…"

Robert smiled at her and said softly "Seems like it, yes… I don't think I've said it recently, Margaret… I may not always have been the most attentive and – er – caring husband over the years, but you – er – really mean the world to me…" She smiled back at him, tenderly smoothed the collar of his shirt and said "I know. And the feeling is mutual…"

Seconds later, Richard turned around and saw his mother kissing his father on the cheek. His dad looked slightly embarrassed, and Richard understood him only too well. At the same time, he was glad to see his parents like that. It seemed that Camille's and his obvious happiness had rubbed off to his parents… They had always got along well, but they never had openly displayed their affection for one another in public…

Come to think of it, he realised with some surprise that it was actually more endearing than embarrassing to see them showing their emotions. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't all that bad to be generally a bit more open about one's feelings… and you could really learn it with time?

The next morning found Richard humming happily under the shower – it was a weird mix of Van Morrison's "Someone like you" and Nat King Cole's "Unforgettable". Camille was still in bed, refusing to open her eyes. She only knew too well that a horror scenario was waiting for her…

With a tender smile, she listened to Richard's singing – well, admittedly, 'singing' wasn't quite the right word. He only really sang the occasional line, and it was mostly off key… all in all, it was more a jumble of humming, singing and splashing. It was wonderful to know he was so happy that he wanted to sing and didn't mind her hearing him. Their relationship had become all she had ever wanted it to be – and more…

Finally, she sighed, sat up and reluctantly dared to risk a glance. No, unfortunately, the mess on the floor had not magically disappeared overnight. Close to the door, there was Richard's shirt. His trousers and the boat shoes he had been wearing last night were only a few inches away, in a bundle with her dress. Closer to the bed, there was her bra, apparently her shoes were under the bed, along with her panties. And his boxers were most likely keeping them company… at least all of these items were out of sight, so she concluded they might hide themselves down there.

Quickly, she closed her eyes again and decided to ignore the chaos. She leant back in the pillow and remembered how they had arrived at their bungalow last night.

Dinner had been fun, and afterwards they had returned to the bar and had a few drinks. Richard's parents had retired around 10 p.m. – the long flight had really done them in. She and Richard had stayed on for another half hour, then they had decided to return to their room, too.

When they had almost been there, Richard's ankle had got caught up in a plant meandering on the ground, and he had nearly tripped over it. So, he had started to grumble about the unruly wildlife in the Caribbean. Somehow, they had got into playful bickering – and she couldn't stop teasing him about still being a grumpy Englishman. He hadn't thought that was funny and retorted that if she wasn't so awfully French, she'd understand his feelings.

"Bah, feelings… as if you had any…" had been her reply, "you're just trying to hide that you're clumsy! And that plant has been here before you, so don't you complain about it!"

And she had sashayed away, with provocatively wiggling hips, in the direction of their bungalow. She had just reached the door when he had grabbed her arm – she had swung around, and the next thing she had known had been the startling sensation of her body being pressed firmly against his, his arms holding her tight, and his voice whispering huskily "Just wait… and I'll show you what my feelings are"… and then he had kissed her – with surprising ardour. When he had pulled away again, he had asked playfully "Now, will you take me home and stay with me tonight?"

They had made it inside, but how… she couldn't remember. All she remembered were his kisses and caresses, the feeling of his body against hers, his hands and his lips.

Later, they had both fallen into a deep and dreamless sleep… and now it was time for breakfast, the room looked like the Huns had invaded, and Richard was singing and flooding the bathroom. Life was good!

When she had reached that point in her train of thoughts, Richard opened the bathroom door, a towel wrapped around his hips. He took in the scene in front of him, they smiled at each other, and he said with mock seriousness "Any idea who caused that havoc? I'm afraid I slept so deeply – I have no idea who did this…"

She giggled and said "Me neither. Maybe you've had a bout of sleepwalking?" He raised his eyebrows and responded thoughtfully "Hmm. Considering the chaos I can see here, I'd think it's rather you who has been walking in her sleep… and you didn't just stick to walking, obviously!" She laughed out loud now and said "Oh no – I rather believe that it's been you… and your true self has come out and you did what you've always wanted to do – show me that you're not such a nitpicky, OCD type after all!"

And with that, she finally jumped out of bed and disappeared in the bathroom… leaving him behind, speechless.

At around the same time, Humphrey was setting off for the station. He hoped that no urgent case would come up today – he wanted to finish in time and get himself presentable for the evening. Camille was back, after all… and they'd see each other again for the first time in about half a year.

With butterflies in his stomach, he thought of Camille's departure and that kiss… Wow, that had been… quite amazing. Admittedly, it hadn't been as passionate as it might have looked from the outside, but it had been a kiss, and she had put on his compass ring, too. He was excited and nervous about her return to Saint Marie. He knew it was only for a holiday, and she'd go back to Europe… eventually. But who knew what would happen during those two weeks – maybe she would change her mind?

If he was honest, he wasn't so sure how he felt about that possibility. He had missed Camille awfully for a while, and he still thought of her with affection and admiration. She would always be special to him.

But slowly, his feelings had shifted a little, and that confused him. Immensely. He didn't quite know what was going on, but with Florence by his side, everything had become easier. She was more indulgent with his quirks – he had only realised after Camille's departure how impatient she had sometimes been with him. Florence passed him a notepad when he needed one, like Camille, but she didn't roll her eyes at him. Florence was a good detective, like Camille… well, maybe not quite as good yet, but she'd get there… but she didn't shove it into his face. Florence was merry and friendly, but not as moody as Camille… And she was eye candy – maybe even more than Camille… Although that was hardly possible, in all fairness.

Still, he was excited about Camille's return. It would be good to see her again and hear what she had been up to. He frowned when he remembered Catherine's words the other day when she had invited him, Dwayne, Florence and JP for dinner. She had told them that they should all come at around 7, and Camille would be there. She'd bring along friends – that also was why she wasn't staying at her mother's place… apparently, they had all checked in at a hotel in Honoré.

A few more people would be there – Fidel, his wife and their little daughter Rosie had come over from St. Lucia for the holiday season, but they had been busy with family visits over Christmas, so Humphrey hadn't seen them so far – and apparently the Commissioner would pop in as well.

After the rest of the team had wandered off to pursue their respective activities, Catherine had come to his table where he was happily sipping his cocktail and had sat down. She had asked casually "Everything okay, Humphrey?"

"Yes, yes, sure… awesome… thank you, Catherine." And then, trying to hide his own eagerness, "Isn't it exciting that Camille will be back so soon? I bet you're happy!" She had looked at him cautiously and said "Yes, I am – of course. It's been half a year, and although we have skyped and e-mailed often, that's just not the same… it'll be wonderful to see her again…"

Humphrey had only then realised that Camille had never e-mailed or texted him over all those months. He had felt a sudden pang of disappointment, remembering that Florence had mentioned Camille had sent her a message some time… Why hadn't she made any efforts to communicate with him? But maybe she had only wanted to give them both time…

Yes, that had to be the point. She had needed time to sort out her feelings, and of course she had known that he… well, that he had felt more for her than just friendship… He hoped she'd understand that his feelings were not exactly the same any more – although he couldn't quite put his finger on what precisely had changed.

But in any case, it would be fun to spend time with her. Maybe they'd have the chance to go out some time and have a drink together, like back in the 'old times'… that would be fun. He'd invite her over to his shack one evening, and then they could talk… He was curious to hear what she had been up to over the past half year. Her friends could surely spend an evening without her, couldn't they…

He had turned back his attention to his cocktail and the daydreams he had been entertaining until Catherine had joined him and pretty much had missed out on Catherine's next remark. "It will be good to have her back, even if it's only for two weeks. Her life is in Europe now, and she has moved on – so I'm determined to make the most of her stay here, and I hope she'll have a wonderful time. It will be difficult for me to let her go again, but I know she is happy now that things have fallen into place, and… well, that is all that counts to me. I won't be standing in her way, she needs to live her own life, after all…"

Only now that he was on his way to the station, these words came back to him from the little corner in his brain where he had stored them away – and he admitted that he was totally clueless about their deeper meaning… if there was any at all. What had Catherine wanted to express with "things having fallen into place"? Oh well, he'd see…


	4. Reflections, Judgements, and Changes

Chapter 4 – Observations, Judgements, and Changes

Camille was on the phone, talking to her mother. " _Oui_ , Maman, the box was here – thank you so much! I haven't quite decided yet which clothes I'll take home and which ones I'll leave here… but we're working on it…"

She shot a loving glance in Richard's direction who had spent most of the morning looking at her different attires with her. He had been so patient with her… She really appreciated that.

She had tried on some of the clothes and realised that she didn't like them on herself any more, so those would go to charity. Others had ended up on the "maybe" pile, and there was a rather small "absolutely" pile that she'd take with her under all circumstances. The coral red dress she had worn last night was part of that pile, along with a few other fancy dresses (not the red one… she had already taken that with her when she had left for Europe half a year ago – and worn it once during a weekend away with Richard in the summer – it had been a huge success with him!), tops, long trousers, capris, skirts, short jumpsuits, jackets and blouses.

She was considering leaving the "maybe" pile with her mother. Those clothes were okay, but not ultimate favourites – she wouldn't mind wearing them here, but they wouldn't really fit into her life over in Europe.

As she continued speaking to her mother, talking about appointments with the priests from both churches (they wanted something oecumenical), Richard went through some of the clothes again. He recognised quite a few of the garments… There was the floral patterned jumpsuit she had worn when she had invited him for the roast dinner after Angelique Morel's suicide… oh, and the long sundress she had worn when she had come to the shack with the team for his birthday (and he had been asleep when they had shown up… but it had been a fun evening once he had been awake!), and there were the mustard coloured trousers she had worn when they had sat on the beach after Aimée's death. He felt she should keep all these clothes.

Also, the skirts she was a little unsure about were absolutely fine, in his opinion, and personally, he didn't mind the trousers she had put aside because of the colour being a little 'outdated', as she had called it, either, but he grimaced when he looked at all the shorts that were sitting on the "maybe" pile.

He wasn't surprised that Humphrey had found it hard to resist Camille – if she had worn all these shorts that barely covered her very attractive backside, Humphrey would have had to be a saint for not having felt "indecently inspired".

A little sourly he thought that when she had worked with him, she had worn more respectable clothes – most of the time, at least. He remembered some very short shorts every once in a while (particularly those denim shorts – my, those had been disturbingly short!), but mostly, she had worn capris, long trousers, or skirts that were at least kneelength. But then again, that had perhaps been because he had always dressed very formally…

Granted, she had sometimes just worn a camisole and shorts, but that had been the exception, and yes, he had always found it rather provocative. And distracting! However, there was no dress code for senior officers, and as she always had done her work properly, he had never said anything. It had sometimes been a struggle for him not to ogle her, but back then, he had been so scared of her sarcastic wit and sharp tongue that he had made a huge effort to control himself. Not to mention that it wouldn't have been appropriate – he had been her boss back then, after all.

No matter how attractive he had found her, no matter how much his blood pressure had gone up when she had showed up in flimsy fabrics… no matter how far his imagination had run away with him when he had seen her long bare legs and her toned arms – and the rest of her body! – he had tried hard not to let it show.

And of course, it hadn't only been her appearance. He had also been fascinated by her charismatic personality – as he still was now. She was beautiful, yes, but if her personality hadn't been so spellbinding, the fascination wouldn't have lasted.

It had been so hard sometimes, but he had always managed – he would have been dead embarrassed if she had figured out how much it had cost him to fight off the desire to hold her during the night of the hurricane, and he clearly remembered how he had been awfully close to taking her in his arms after Aimée's death. If only he hadn't been so scared…

In hindsight, that all seemed rather silly, but they had been at different points in their lives then, and it was useless to speculate about what could have happened. He hadn't made a move back then, and it had seemed right that way.

He could just imagine how confused Humphrey must have been when he had encountered Camille… after all, he knew how buttoned up female English police officers could be – not all of them, mind you, but the climate just wasn't ideal for shorts and sleeveless tops in the UK, so you hardly ever saw any of them in light clothes.

And since Humphrey had been rather casual about his own clothing – from what Camille as well as his mother (she had met him briefly when he had informed her about the ongoing investigations, plus he had helped her packing Richard's belongings) had told him – Richard assumed that the rest of the team had kind of adapted to that.

Just as they had adapted to his formal attire and manners – to a certain extent… Of couse, Fidel and Dwayne had worn their uniforms. And Dwayne would never let go of his beaded necklace, and he had still worn his atrocious shirts sometimes, but that had been in his free time, and it hadn't been too bad. But according to Camille, his love for eccentric clothing had become worse again once Humphrey had been there for a while.

Richard was far from holding Camille responsible for Humphrey's advances to her. He didn't believe in the concept of women being accountable for men being after them just because they wore short skirts or hotpants – he knew that blaming women for men's misbehaviour was totally wrong. After all, women didn't pounce on shirtless men on the beach, either – no matter how attractive they might find said men.

But he could understand very well why Humphrey had fallen for Camille… not only because he, too, had fallen for her, but also because he could just imagine what it must have been like for the Inspector to be confronted with the Caribbean lifestyle, the happy-go-lucky people, the warm and sunny weather…

While he – Richard - had been rather bewildered by all these things and hadn't really wanted to be on Saint Marie, according to Camille, Goodman had embraced all that. Saint Marie had symbolised a new beginning for him, something he had wanted, and so he had soaked it all up and reveled in the zest of life around him. It hadn't been a sacrifice for him to stay on the island - unlike Richard, he hadn't missed the UK.

Camille had never said much about Humphrey's wife, and Richard wasn't really interested, either, but from the few tidbits that he knew, he concluded that Sally Goodman hadn't been too pleased with her husband's assignment here in the Caribbean, and the couple's marriage had gone straight downhill – most likely, it would have dragged on for a little longer if they had stayed in the UK, but Richard had seen many doomed relationships – people staying together just out of habit or because of social status, people fighting for the ultimate state of control, people having no respect for one another and just trying to hurt their partner – and he knew that it often started with people not communicating.

It was normal that individuals developed in different directions and at a different pace sometimes… the key always was communication and trust… or lack thereof. He had learnt that much during his many years of working for the police.

He still was embarrassed for his lack of communication with Camille during the first half year after his stabbing – but he had been given another chance, and he had grabbed it. Thankfully, she had understood his silence and not given up on him.

But he had sworn to himself that he'd never let this happen between them again, no matter how hard he might find it to talk about some things – all too soon, it could turn into numbness, disinterest, distance… or all of those. That didn't mean it was wise to blurt out literally everything that was on one's mind, but it meant that there had to be an interest in keeping the communication alive. Real communication – not only everyday chit-chat or talking about organisational matters. So many people forgot to do that. And he suspected that this had happened to Humphrey and Sally Goodman. Maybe mutual misunderstandings, resentment or nagging had added to the issue.

And in that situation, Camille with her _joie de vivre_ , her pragmatism, her liveliness and laughter must have been a stark contrast, and of course she was a natural beauty, physically very 'present', and that certainly would attract anyone… particularly if you were in a receptive mood… for lack of a better word.

Richard wasn't sure if Humphrey had really fallen for Camille – or for what she symbolised for him. And in fact, he didn't care. He just didn't want Humphrey's shadow to hover over their heads while they were here… he knew that Camille felt a little guilty about her behaviour towards him, and he also knew that she wanted to sort it out with him. She had mentioned once to him that she was sure that Humphrey had wanted to confess his affection to her on the evening when she had told him about the job offer from the French, and she had cut him off… in order to spare them both the embarrassment of an unwelcome declaration of love. Clearly, whatever it was that she wanted to sort out with Humphrey, it had to happen soon, and it had to be final. He had an idea of what it could be, but it was between Camille and Humphrey – and none of his business.

His musings came to an abrupt ending when Camille finally put down her phone and said "So… what do you think, Richard? Are you okay with the piles? I saw you going through the stuff I want to leave here – anything you consider worth taking home?"

He smiled at her using the word "home". Saint Marie was no longer what she considered "home", obviously… "Home" was their life together now.

He cleared his throat and said "I don't think those shorts would be of much use in the UK… you could wear them if we ever were to go for a holiday in the South of France or Italy or some place like that, but other than that, I can't see why you would want to keep them. You can leave them here, and if you still like them next time we come to visit, then… fine. If not, you can always give them to charity."

He had carefully avoided saying anything like "if the clothes don't fit any more when we come next time" – he knew that the sheer insinuation that she might gain weight or lose shape would drive her up the walls… and he'd be in a fix.

"Hmm. I think you're right… I don't really think I'd wear any of these clothes back in Europe. Here, they are fine, but can you imagine me coming into class wearing shorts like that?" She held up a particularly short specimen and shook her head in disbelief. "You know what, I never thought you'd hear me saying that, but I have to say it now: It wouldn't seem appropriate," she declared.

She pulled out another pair of shorts and said contritely, "You know, Richard, now that I look at this pile, it seems to me that I never took my work seriously any more after you left. That is, after we had solved the case of you being stabbed, I just kind of switched off. And it showed in my attire. I mean, I went to work and did what I had to do – and some of the cases were interesting, others not so much, and all that. But I didn't care so much about what I did any more. And once I had been to the UK and visited you, I cared even less. All I wanted was go back and be with you. I got more indifferent about work and generally restless. I can see that clearly now."

She put down the shorts again and turned towards him. "I hate to admit it. I've always been so proud of my work ethics. No matter how easygoing and devil-may-care I am about many things… I know, it was me who kept saying you should loosen up and relax a little… but I've always been thorough and careful about my work. Not as painstakingly meticulous as you are, but well – I don't think anybody could compare to you in that respect, anyway. But I was a good DS as long as you were there. After that, I lost direction and just thought I was a good DS." She smiled faintly.

He touched her arm and said sympathetically "I'm sure you still were a good DS, Camille. You're over-interpreting things. From what you told me, I think it's safe to say that you still did your job with outstanding commitment. I know that the Commissioner valued your work and praised you highly in his letter of recommendation. It was just that your heart wasn't involved any more, but I don't think that influenced the quality of your work. I'm confident that Goodman appreciated it, and Dwayne and Fidel – and later Florence – felt the same way. Now, come on, let's pack this pile away – we'll take it to your mother's tonight – and this other pile goes into the plastic bags over here… we can take them to charity on the way to Maman. Someone will be happy to wear your clothes – they are all in top condition, after all."

They opened the cardboard box and put the "maybe pile" inside, then they tackled the "charity pile". While they were doing so, she smiled at how he had just called her mother "Maman"… She knew he had done it for her – he'd never call her anything but "Catherine"… although she – Camille – sometimes called his mother "Mum" now. It had happened almost automatically after a while, and Margaret didn't seem to mind… But then, of course, the age difference between him and her mother wasn't all that big, so it would have seemed silly if he had suddenly switched to "Maman" as a form of address.

After they had finished, he got a bottle of water for Camille out of the little fridge and put the kettle on and made himself a cup of tea. They sat outside on their little veranda, and he asked "Now, what did your mother have to say about the appointments with the – er – church representatives?"

She explained what Catherine had arranged – they'd meet the priests from both churches on the next day. Catherine had been able to convince them to sit in the bar, but they had insisted on meeting in the back room that usally served as a storage unit. Camille thought that was ridiculous, but there was nothing they could do about it…

The plan for tonight was that they'd all get together at the bar – the current team, Fidel and his wife Juliet, Camille and Richard, Margaret and Robert… and from what Catherine had said, the Commissioner would also pop in for a drink – she wasn't sure if he'd stay for food, though. Tomorrow, they'd meet with the priests to discuss the blessing – after that, they'd be free to do whatever they found pleasure in, and then there'd be the blessing. It should all be fairly stress-free once the meeting tomorrow was over…

At least that was the rough concept. Camille couldn't help but feel slightly edgy about the forthcoming get-together. It would be fun to meet everyone – but she had no idea what to expect from Humphrey at this point. And how on earth would she get rid of the compass ring? She desperately wanted to return it to him, but how could she do that without offending him or making him sad? As much as he had annoyed her sometimes… he also had been very good to her, and she thought of him as a friend. Well… time would tell – she'd go with the flow, and something would turn up…

A few hours later, Camille and Richard as well as his parents arrived at La Kaz. They had popped in at the charity shop on the way, and the other batch of Camille's clothes was sitting in the boot of the car. Margaret and Robert were curious to meet Richard's former colleagues – Margaret had only got to know them very briefly, and her memory was blurred because everything had been so traumatic for her, and after the initial encounter, it had only been Camille she had seen on a regular basis. Humphrey had helped her to box up Richard's things, but she had only gathered a very general impression of him – he had been helpful and compassionate, but other than that, she couldn't really say much about him.

They were early – just as Camille had planned. She wanted to have a few moments with Catherine, without anybody else, except her husband and her parents-in-law – who would stay outside until she'd call them in. Excitedly, she jumped out of the car – Richard had done the driving this time – and rushed to the bar counter where she saw her mother polishing glasses. Catherine had turned her back on her – she didn't expect them so early, obviously.

As she got closer, Camille suddenly got a little nervous, but before she could give in to the feeling, her mother turned around and saw her. "Camille," she exclaimed, and a happy smile appeared on her face. She put down the glass and the dishtowel and hastened to come around the counter. After some excited hugging, kissing, and babbling (in French, of course), Catherine released Camille – still, she kept holding her hands, as if she was afraid she'd disappear if she'd let her go completely.

"Camille…" Catherine took a closer look at her daughter and said appreciatevely "Your hair looks great – much better than on the computer screen!" Camille laughed.

"And you are happy." Catherine stated matter-of-factly. Camille nodded and beamed.

Maman squeezed her hands and finally let them go. Camille threw her arms around her mother's neck again and whispered in her ear "I missed you, Maman… it's good to be back!"

Catherine smiled into her daughter's curls. Then she said softly "Chérie, I'm happy to have you here…" Her voice sounded a little hoarse, and her eyes were misty. She pulled herself together and said merrily "Now, show me the rings, and then let's call Richard and his parents…"

Camille was only too happy to fulfil her mother's request. She had sent pictures of the rings on her hands already, but of course, it was different to see the "real thing". Her mother loved the engagement ring and the matching necklace and approved of the simple wedding band. "Very chic and classy," she remarked. "And it suits you so well…"

Catherine had already noticed in her conversations with Camille via telephone and skype that her daughter had undergone yet another change. It was hard to pinpoint, but she was clearly not the island girl any more that she had been during the almost 4 years she had lived with her after her return from France.

The transformation from city girl to island girl had gone very smoothly back then, and Catherine assumed that she could slip back into that role again quickly if she wanted – Camille was a natural chameleon, after all – but this time, there was a different air about her, compared to the first time she had returned from France… something more sophisticated, something more refined, something more mature - and Catherine knew that Camille didn't want to change into the island girl any more at this point…

She had known that instinctively from their conversations on the phone and via skype, and now that she had seen her in person, the feeling got even stronger, and she realised with a sad smile that there was no turning back… Camille had left the nest for good.


	5. Preparations

Chapter 5 - Preparations

Catherine realised it was time to meet her son-in-law and his parents, so she asked Camille to call them in. She shook hands with Margaret and Robert. She had only met Margaret once, but from Camille she had learnt that her mother-in-law was a pragmatic, caring lady – she had done so much for Camille by keeping in touch with her so she didn't lose hope when Richard didn't reply to the cards she sent. It struck her to see the similarity between Robert and Richard – not so much in looks since all they shared in that respect were the green eyes and the medium build, but more in their movements and their body language… Catherine was fascinated.

When she turned to Richard to welcome him, she didn't quite know what to do… Then she saw a humorous gleam in his eyes, and he said, noticing her hesitation, "No worries, Catherine – I'm not a zombie. Or – er – Beelzebub. It's really me, and you can touch me. I'm not going to vanish in a yellow sulfuric cloud or something like that!" She laughed and hugged him – a little hesitantly, but with warmth.

They had talked on the phone and skyped briefly a couple of times since Camille had moved to Europe, but it still felt strange to think that he was her son-in-law now. Although, of course, she had always known that Camille loved him – long before her daughter had been aware of it. And she had also seen Richard's occasional surreptitious glances when they had sat together at La Kaz during the two years of his stay – he had hidden it very well, but she had noticed that he hadn't been indifferent at all, no matter how much he had tried to conceal his feelings.

She remembered how she had brought him chicken soup during his bad bout of fever, and how he had hallucinated about Camille… that had been quite enlightening! For a while, when nothing had happened, she had thought his feelings had perhaps changed, but then she had seen him looking at Camille – and she had known that he was very much in love with her, but for some reason couldn't or didn't want to make a move. She hadn't understood it at first, but then she figured that maybe he had made bad experiences in the past, and also, Camille might have frightened him – and her daughter couldn't quite gauge his behaviour, so she hadn't felt safe to make a move, either…

Well, that was obviously history now.

They still had about 15 minutes before the others would arrive, so Catherine brought drinks, and they sat down to talk a little. The bar was closed for other customers, and Catherine had prepared her version of 'tapas' – French and Caribbean finger food. Some platters were in the oven so they could be served warm, others were in the back room, covered with kitchen towels. She had figured that Richard got excellent roast beef in the UK so despite his unadventurous eating habits, he might appreciate something different for a change, and she knew that Camille loved that sort of food. She had been careful to prepare some dishes that weren't overly strong in flavour, too, so that Richard and his parents wouldn't feel overwhelmed, but the majority of food was well seasoned and spicy.

Richard's parents looked around – so this was where Richard had spent much of his time during his assignment on Saint Marie! – and listened to the conversation that began to unfold. Camille chatted away happily, talking about the wedding ceremony back in Paris, the flight to Saint Marie and the hotel they stayed at. Richard made the occasional remark, but most of the time he just sat there quietly, sipping his drink, and Catherine was touched to see how he looked at her 'little girl'. He'd always be a fairly reserved man, but he didn't hide his love for Camille any more – it showed in every glance, in every little touch, in every word. And Camille looked back at him lovingly, touched his hand, smiled at him warmly… There was a mutual understanding between them that was almost tangible.

And Catherine knew: All would be well. She had been wondering how Camille and Richard would get along, if his natural reservedness wouldn't make things difficult, if Camille could cope with his sometimes uptight behaviour and fussiness. She had worried for nothing – they were in sync, and although their relationship certainly wasn't free of arguments and misunderstandings (she had already heard about some of those "differences in opinion" from Camille – and really, wasn't it boring to always agree on everything?), it was based on solid ground.

It wasn't without apprehension regarding the forthcoming evening that Florence put on the new dress that she had purchased only recently. It was her Christmas gift for herself – black with an irregular graphic pattern of smaller and bigger circles in blue, green and orange, with spaghetti straps and a 'floating' full skirt. She knew it looked good on her, and she hoped others would notice it, too. As she went on to style her hair, she wondered what it would be like to meet Camille again after so many months.

Except for a few e-mails that Camille had sent soon after her departure, their contact had been fairly erratic… and those e-mails hadn't been overly personal. Camille had given her a few tips about how to deal with Humphrey, she had pointed out a few details regarding "correct procedure" and "protocol" (things that Humphrey didn't always pay attention to), and she had offered help and assistance if Florence wanted any advice on her tasks. But she had not said much about her new position or her living arrangements, and apart from a few general remarks about how beautiful Paris was and how much she enjoyed being there again, she hadn't given Florence any information about how things were going for her.

Florence had been a bit hurt because she had thought that she and Camille were friends. However, she had understood that Camille had to find her feet in the new job and might not have the time or inclination to share every little detail. Surely, part of her work involved confidential affairs, and of course, she'd be busy getting to know the people around her, finding a place to live and all that… but still… it was painful to feel that Camille had apparently forgotten all the fun times spent together at the bar, on the beach and in the station. They had laughed together quite a bit…

Putting on her make-up, Florence mused that it was weird how ambivalent her feelings were when it came to Camille, her departure a few months ago and her return now.

It had been nice to have a more experienced female colleague who had helped her to find her place in the team, who had given her hints and tips and who had taken her seriously. By the same token, there had always been a hint of competition between them, and while Florence had initially thought it didn't signify, she had realised later on when Camille had been gone that it had indeed been a small cloud hovering over her head. Now that she was the only female in the team, there wasn't any competition… Humphrey relied completely on her, they had solved a number of cases together, and she knew that she was doing a good job. With Camille, she had always just been second best.

Naturally, it was fun to work with Dwayne… he was such a lovely guy, resourceful and funny! He had initially tried to impress her, but they had moved on from there, and now they just were good friends and colleagues. For heaven's sake, he was about twice her age – what had he been thinking?

And JP – who had joined them a little while after she had been promoted to DS – was really cute… like a little brother! And he looked up to her – an experience she had never made before. Although… he had raised his eyebrows at her behaviour towards Martin Goodman…

She had given Humphrey's father a piece of her mind because she just couldn't stand how he wouldn't acknowledge his son's abilities and qualities, and JP had said afterwards that he had been surprised that Mr Goodman hadn't put her into her place. "How do you mean?" she had asked with arched eyebrows, a tad aggressively, and JP had responded "Well, just saying, Florence… he's probably old enough to be your grandfather, and with all due respect – the way you treated him was anything but appropriate!"

She had laughed it off and called JP a country bumpkin, but she had been secretly worried that he might have been right. But really, she had been so annoyed with the whole situation… perhaps Goodman senior would understand that she had just got carried away because she cared for his son. She had been relieved when neither Humphrey nor his father had said anything about the incident to her… she wouldn't have wanted to appear tartly and rude.

Adding a dab of eyeshadow, Florence involuntarily frowned when she recalled Camille's departure. It had been a fairly dramatic exit, as far as she saw it. She had never really found out all the details, but rumour had it that Camille had been offered that job in France and Humphrey had been reluctant to let her go, but had changed his mind just in the nick of time. Everybody had known that he'd been in love with Camille – and that the feeling hadn't been mutual. Only Humphrey had failed to see that it had been only friendship from her side.

Just a few weeks after she had joined the team, Florence had tried to find out discreetly what Camille's feelings for him were, and she had been taken aback by Camille's indifference – Humphrey had admired her so openly, and Florence had been surprised that Camille could resist his puppy eyes.

But Camille had only raised her eyebrows when Florence – feigning innocence – had broached the subject and said "Oh, Humphrey… He's okay. He's very kind. And he's a good boss, and an excellent detective. You'll find out with time that he's not as inept as he appears to be. And he's fun to be with, although…"

There her voice had trailed off, and Florence had never found out what she had had on her mind in that moment. Camille often had seemed a little absent-minded, and only after her departure, Florence had understood that her colleague maybe had been ready to leave for a while already.

Dwayne had commented a few times on Camille's obvious impatience with Humphrey. One day, he had remarked "Man, you'd think she'd acknowledge his openness and friendly manners. But no such luck. He's so easy going, and she doesn't seem to see it. The previous chief was such a stuffed shirt – brilliant in his own way, but boy, was he starchy and uptight… at least most of the time… though he could sometimes be very funny, too. Whatever, we sometimes wished he'd be more sociable and less of a hermit… He and Camille were like cat and dog at first, though with time, they liked each other in a way… and now that we have a chief who's nice and approachable, she doesn't seem to appreciate that, either."

That had been the first time that Florence had heard about Humphrey's predecessor. She had been away from the island for training during Richard's assignment, so she had never met him, and all she had heard about him were rumours and gossip. She didn't care enough to try and find out more, though. To her it had only counted at this point that Camile wasn't interested in Humphrey.

So, she had been taken aback by how seemingly passionate the goodbye had been between Humphrey and Camille. But well, maybe it had looked more intense than it had actually been.

Florence was too young and unexperienced to understand that Camille had felt guilty in a strange way – everyone had been so good to her on the island, and still she couldn't wait to get away from it. It was like she was being ungrateful, and that perception was personified in Humphrey… so her reaction to his kiss had basically been a complex mix of guilt, relief, gratitude and generosity. She was grateful and relieved that she could go, and she could afford to be generous with her (heartfelt) affection because she would go out into the world and find happiness now – it was her way to acknowledge the situation.

It had taken Camille a long time to understand her own emotions, and she would have struggled to find the right words if anybody had asked her to explain. And she had decided it would be best not to keep in touch overly closely with Florence so Humphrey and she would be able to adjust to one another without being disturbed by the shadows of the past.

Florence couldn't know all that. But although the farewell scene at the boat had been a little startling, she had tried not to put too much emphasis on it. Things weren't always what they appeared to be, she knew that much.

In any case, it would be interesting to see Camille. And as Florence put on her necklace and earrings, she wondered how Humphrey would feel when he'd see his former DS again…

Humphrey couldn't help but wonder the same thing. He was ready to go, still he was hesitant to do so. He had put on one of the island shirts that he so loved to wear during his time off – much to his father's dismay! It was green with a rather striking floral print… Humphrey liked to think that it made him look adventurous, relaxed and easy going. That was how he wanted to feel and how he wanted others to see him. His trousers were a very dark shade of beige, almost tan, and of course he was wearing his universal linen jacket. Not the blue one, of course… the other one. He glanced in the mirror, shoved his hand into the mop on his head to make it look a bit less like 'Prince Valiant on a bad hair day' and finally left his shack.

His father's recent visit had rattled him more than he had wanted to admit. It had ended well, fortunately, and it had seemed like they had reached a new level of understanding as his father had realised that he was not wasting his time on this small Caribbean island. He had even admitted that trying to make him return and crash his ex-wife's forthcoming wedding wouldn't be such a great idea. Still, the whole visit had left a nagging feeling. What if his father had been right in the first place, and he was actually only escaping from reality?

He realised that a big part of his life had been spent trying to do the 'right thing', please others and fulfil their expectations so they'd accept him. He had always felt a little inadequate among others. He was clumsy and had a tendency to be involuntarily funny because of that, and he sometimes felt a bit left out. Like the ugly duckling. His brothers were so much more successful, at least in the eyes of others, and he knew that his parents had been disappointed when he hadn't continued studying law to become a solicitor and eventually a barrister but switched to another subject and joined the police afterwards. It hadn't been good enough for them.

He had made up for the whole thing by marrying Sally – they had liked her, she had had the 'right' background, and everything had seemed to go well. Then they had started to ask about when he and Sally were planning to start a family… and at the same time, his relationship with Sally had gone downhill.

A fresh start had seemed to be the right thing to go for, so when the assignment in the Caribbean had popped up, he had grabbed the chance, thinking it would solve all his problems – he'd get away from the nagging and questioning from his parents' side, and he and Sally would have the chance to start a new life together.

Only that she hadn't wanted to start over with him. Not really. Although she had said she had missed him when she had flown out to see him at the end of his first year, he hadn't believed her. She had hurt him so much with her spiteful words about him being a blob of niceness – or whatever she had said. He had even written it down somewhere, but actually, the exact phrasing hadn't mattered so much.

All that had mattered was that she hadn't been happy with him any more – if she had ever been happy at all – and that she only had seemed to want him back for status, not for who he was. And really, where was the point in that?

Hadn't it been for Camille, he might have given in, but fortunately, he had come to his senses in time and turned down Sally's 'offer' to take him back. Or had she asked him to take her back? He couldn't remember.

He was beginning to wonder if that was the story of his life – that people didn't see there was more in him than the clumsy, inept big boy that he appeared to be. But then – who was he really?

He just knew he did a good job here on Saint Marie, people liked him, and he was happy. Even now that Camille whom he had adored, almost idolized, was gone, he was happy. His obsession with Camille had been the result of his loneliness, he had figured that out in the meantime… more or less…

Yes, she was a lovely person, yes, she was desirable, beautiful and sexy (he still got pretty excited when he thought of her in that one-piece surfing outfit), a good listener, a wonderful friend… but was that enough? He didn't know any more. And he was ashamed of himself now.

As long as she had been here, she had been all he had longed and wished for – and yes, he had missed her when she had been gone. But eventually, he had moved on, hadn't he, and recently, he had realised with some astonishment that there had been days, even weeks, during which he hadn't even thought of her at all any more… Did that mean his feelings hadn't been real? Had they only been a foible, a fad?

He frowned and remembered how he had pined for Camille, how he had wanted her to be with him at all cost, how he had tried to impress her by taking up running and surfing, how he had been mooning over her during the first few weeks of her absence… was that the kind of behaviour you'd expect from a grown man? And now that she was back… what would it be like? Would she understand that he wasn't the same man any more? What would she see in him? Was it important at all? Her long silence could mean anything…

He stopped short and was close to turning around. He almost didn't want to go to the party any more now… how could he go and look into her eyes, knowing that he had been such an idiot? He almost wished now that she hadn't come back. Maybe he could have forgotten her with time if she had stayed in Europe…

But then he squared his shoulders and continued his way to La Kaz. There was a party, Catherine had invited him, and everyone would be there. And he owed it to Camille to show up…

Dwayne donned one of his colourful shirts – yellow with burgundy red flowers! - and briefly wondered what food Catherine would come up with. He was looking forward to having free drinks and spending another evening with the team, although as far as he was concerned, he would have preferred if Catherine had not closed the place for other customers. That way, you couldn't just sneak away when you were bored. On the other hand, free drinks weren't so bad, either, and most likely he wouldn't get bored, anyway…

Most likely it would be a fun evening, and he was genuinely happy about the prospect of seeing Fidel and Juliet again – it had been about a year since they had moved to St. Lucia, and although Mrs Best senior always was keen on updating Dwayne on Fidel's situation, it wasn't the same. Fidel had sent the occasional e-mail or forwarded a joke, but Dwayne had been a little erratic in responding, so the communication had been infrequent.

He grinned - it would be fun to wind up Fidel a little and tease him about… oh, whatever. He was so serious, prim and proper. No surprise that working with Humphrey hadn't been entirely his cup of tea – he had respected him, but not as much as he had respected DI Poole.

For a moment, Dwayne wondered how his former Chief might be doing. Camille had gone to the UK half a year after the stabbing and had obviously seen him… as afterwards, she had said he was doing okay, given the circumstances, but other than that, she had never let on whether or not she was in touch with him…

Strange thing, that will-they-won't-they-relationship that Camille and DI Poole had had going on between them…

Dwayne remembered how he had held Camille to comfort her when they had found Richard in the lounger, lifeless. Good grief, what a shock that had been for everyone, but Camille had been simply devastated. She had never been the same any more after that, no matter how well she had got on with Humphrey eventually, and no matter how hard she had tried to be happy and joyful again. It had worked to a certain extent, but she had appeared restless much of the time.

Humphrey's advances hadn't impressed her, and while Dwayne had had the feeling that she thought he was okay, she clearly hadn't seen more in him than a friend. Strangely enough, Humphrey had never understood that. Dwayne had figured it was none of his business – it was all up to Humphrey if he wanted to make a fool of himself – but he had shaken his head in disbelief a couple of times at all the efforts their boss had made to impress Camille.

Camille, however, hadn't been interested in being impressed by him. Interesting how DI Poole never had made any efforts to impress her, and yet she had been fascinated by him. They just had had that chemistry between them… those sparks…

He had always felt that there had been more between her and Richard than just friendship… and he would have expected Camille to keep in touch with the Chief. He knew she had visited him in hospital and even made the trip to Guadeloupe sometimes to see him there, but after his transfer to the UK and the one visit half a year later, she hadn't said anything about the whole thing any more. He'd have to ask her tonight.

Pleased with his outfit, he finally grabbed his keys, left his house and set off to La Kaz. He was determined to have fun tonight.


	6. Reunion

Chapter 6 - Reunion

A little after 7 p.m. – she was just watching Richard getting hugged by Fidel – awkwardly, but sincerely – Camille noticed a young man in the doorway, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. She nudged her mother who was greeting Juliet – and Catherine turned around and saw that JP had arrived. Obviously the poor boy didn't know anybody and was feeling a bit "displaced", so she went to save him…

She pulled him into their circle and made the introductions, superficially presenting Margaret and Robert as "Mrs and Mr Poole", and before too long, JP found himself engaged in a conversation with Margaret who asked him about his position in the team and listened attentively to his slightly incoherent explanations about how he had only been here for half a year and how he lived in Catherine's house… It was easy to see that he was a little overwhelmed.

JP had recognised Camille from the pictures that he had seen in Catherine's house, so when she came up to him, he extended his hand and introduced himself politely. Camille smiled at him and said "So you are the one who has occupied my old bedroom?"

He felt his face get warm – somehow this sounded a little frivolous to him, and he wasn't sure if she was making fun of him. But her smile was genuine, so he relaxed, and they got into a light conversation about Saint Marie in general and Honoré in particular. Little by little, he began to feel more comfortable in his skin. It was a bit scary to be the odd one out – everybody seemed to know each other, and that was intimidating. However, he was grateful to realise that Camille and Mrs Poole were trying to make him feel at ease, and he really appreciated their efforts.

Fortunately, Florence showed up now (she looked breathtaking – and he decided he'd tell her so later on… not now when there were so many people around!), so he wasn't so alone any more. She had finally set off after she had tried to reach Humphrey on the phone a couple of times – she had wanted to suggest they'd appear together at the party, but he hadn't picked up the calls, so she assumed that either his phone was dead or he had forgotten to switch it on. It wouldn't be the first time…

JP was now engaged in a conversation with Robert who asked him about his line of work, and Florence joined them and listened for a while – until JP remembered his manners and said "Oh, sorry – er – Florence, this is Mr Poole – Mr Poole, this is Florence, the Detective Sergeant of the team."

Sharp green eyes met Florence's brown ones, and she was taken aback – now, where had she seen eyes like that before, just recently? You didn't come across green eyes that often on Saint Marie… She hid her surprise, though, extended her hand and said politely "Nice to meet you, sir." She noticed there were more people she didn't know, but trusted that she'd meet them all eventually. This was Camille's welcome party, the guests were here for her, so it didn't matter if she – Florence – got to know them rather sooner than later – it would all fall into place.

At the other end of the bar, Fidel had finally stopped shaking Richard's hand and recovered from seeing his old Chief. He had known that the Pooles would come – Camille had e-mailed him about their visit, after all – but it still had come as a bit of a shock to see Richard in tip-top condition – that in itself was a miracle, but he was also smiling happily, and this was almost more than Fidel could handle - during his assignment on Saint Marie, it had been rather the exception than the rule to see Richard smile!

Fidel now said "You can't even begin to imagine how pleased I am to see you! I know it sounds absurd to say this, but you sure look a lot better now than you did when I saw you last time…" Since that had been when Richard had been taken away by the paramedics and everyone had thought he was dead, it was easy to believe his words.

Richard grimaced and said "I guess so, Fidel…" but before he could get any further, there was a bit of a commotion in the entrance area, and Dwayne entered the scene. "Am I late?" he asked anxiously. Catherine came up to him with a bottle of beer in her hand, handing it over to him. He took a swig, but almost spluttered it out again a second later. He hadn't looked around to see yet who was present, so he nearly had a seizure when a well-known, but almost forgotten voice, coming from the other end of the bar, said drily "Not more than usually, Dwayne…"

Dwayne spun around, his eyes wide open, an almost comical look of disbelief on his face, and cried out "For heaven's sake… Chief!"

When he understood that he wasn't hallucinating, the look on his face changed, and with a broad smile, he handed JP (who was totally perplexed) the bottle and went up to Richard, taking both of his hands, shaking them violently and exclaiming "What are you doing here? Wait… are you the mysterious friend that Camille brought along?"

Without releasing Richard's hands, he turned around to Camille whom he had seen, but not greeted so far, and she nodded, a grin on her face. Richard said a little stiffly "I think we can confirm that assumption, and – er – if you don't mind, you can let go of my hands now…"

Margaret and Robert watched the scene with great interest. It was enlightening and downright funny to see how everybody was excited to see Richard, and although it was clear that he also was pleased, he was also embarrassed by the open affection that he was greeted with. It was like everyone was falling back into old behaviour patterns. The dynamics of the old team became obvious with that – there was Fidel with his respectful, yet easy behaviour, Dwayne with his roguish but sincere manner seemed like a contrast, but his joy wasn't any less honest than Fidel's… and Richard's parents understood now how Camille and Richard had fit into the gang – she with her light-hearted, intuitive – yet tough (almost 'badass' – a word that Margaret and Robert only used very reluctantly) – demeanour, and he with his painstaking attention to detail and power of deduction.

Richard kept protesting, but Dwayne didn't listen any more – he began to pull Richard into JP's direction and said enthusiastically to his younger colleague "Look, JP – oh, hello Florence, by the way… nice dress! - JP, that's the Chief! I mean, that's our old Chief, the one we had before the present Chief came. Say hello to Inspector Poole, JP, oh, and you too, Florence… Good heavens, that's - wow… I'm speechless, Chief – where have you been hiding all the time? You look splendid! Hardly recognised you – where's your suit, the tie, and the briefcase?"

Dwayne had never seen his former Chief so relaxed and informal. Richard was wearing dark trousers and an off-white dress shirt, with a very sophisticated and subtle dark stripe pattern, his sleeves were rolled up. He had only one tie with him on this holiday – and this wasn't the occasion for wearing it, so his collar was open. His polished black shoes also had stayed in the hotel – he had preferred wearing his comfortable boat shoes this evening.

But of course, the new team members couldn't know that this was an extremely casual outfit for Richard's standards. To them, he still looked a little formal. They only knew Humphrey's casual style of clothing…

JP was gawping at the older officer and uttered a faint "hello" in Richard's direction then, Dwayne was still holding Richard's hands in his excitement, and Richard's expression became more and more desperate.

Florence couldn't help but giggle… she had recognised Richard now, and it struck her as funny to compare the quiet, confident man from the airport who had been totally in control to the flustered, befuddled one in front of her now. But to be honest, she found it rather cute, for lack of a better word…

Much to everyone's amusement, Richard's feeble attempts to free himself from Dwayne's grip remained unsuccessful, and Camille eventually took pity on him. She touched Dwayne's arm and dropped a bombshell by saying softly "Mind you, Dwayne, could you please do me a favour and let go of my husband's hands? After all we've been through, I don't want him to get damaged, you know…"

Her words had the desired effect – Dwayne let go of Richard's hands. But the next thing Richard knew was that he got pressed violently against Dwayne's chest and received a number of forceful pats on his back. "Wow, congratulations, Chief – man, this is the best news I've heard in a while… taken the plunge, huh? Never thought I'd see the day when the two of you finally got your act together…"

Eventually, Dwayne released him. Richard cleared his throat and was about to say something, but it wasn't meant to be.

Everyone wanted to congratulate them, so Camille and he were hugged by Juliet and Fidel, JP came to shake their hands, Florence did the same, everyone was babbling, Camille had to show her rings, and amidst this helter-skelter, the Commissioner arrived.

With his quiet, yet sonorous voice, the Commissioner turned to Catherine to ask what the matter was, but before Catherine could make a reply, Richard turned around – and Selwyn Patterson recognised him. With a delighted smile, he moved towards his former Detective Inspector – and of course, everyone stood straight. It was like Moses dividing the Red Sea, JP thought. The Commissioner always made him nervous, but he also admired him in a way. He was an awe-inspiring man…

While she watched the Commissioner talking to Camille and Richard, Florence tried to process what the news that had just been spilt really meant for her – and for Humphrey.

Besides being happy for Camille who beamed with bliss, she felt a strange mix of relief and worry.

Relief because the fact that Camille was married now meant she was officially off the market (so even Humphrey would have to understand that she was not available any longer), and it also implied that – while Saint Marie would perhaps always be her haven and retreat in case of need – her home was Europe now – or more precisely, her home was Richard Poole.

From the way they looked at one another, it was clear that they were very much in love, although Florence found that Richard was a stark contrast to someone like Camille. Somehow, he didn't fit the picture of the man that Florence would have expected her to pick – but then again, what did she know? Camille had met so many bold surfer boys in her life, so many self-assured doctors, businessmen and lawyers, maybe she was bored with them? Maybe that was why she had fallen for this rather quiet, almost shy and seemingly unspectacular man?

Considering how much time had passed since he had left the island, Camille had been very constant and steady in her affection – that was pretty impressive, taking into account that they hadn't had a chance to see each other all that much. So, their love had to be really strong, and maybe Richard Poole had hidden qualities that weren't so glaringly obvious at first sight? Of course, his eyes were mesmerising, but there had to be more…

Well, maybe she'd find out once she got to know him a little better…

It also explained why Camille hadn't been interested in Humphrey's advances – she had been in love with her former boss, and nobody could hold a candle to him. This all meant that Camille wasn't a 'threat' to Humphrey's equilibrum any more – well, theoretically.

And that was where the worry set in. Florence only knew too well how obsessed Humphrey could get over things. They had never talked about it, but she had seen him pining for Camille, she had seen him making a fool of himself over her, and she had seen how Camille apparently hadn't even noticed. She was not so sure about that last aspect any more now, though – she suspected that Camille had noticed his infatuation alright, but had deliberately decided to ignore it.

Florence also knew that Humphrey had been shaken up quite a bit by his father's visit. No matter how much truth there was in the old saying "All's well that ends well" – the visit had ended well, after all – there would always remain a slightly bitter aftertaste. Humphrey was funny, clever and intelligent, but everybody just seemed to see how clumsy and awkward he was. He was a very contradictory man – on one hand, he was kind, generous and friendly, and he seemed to be open to whatever life had in store for him, on the other hand, he could be very child-like when it came to craving attention and affection, he needed a lot of reassurance, and he obviously felt like he never was good enough…

Granted, he could be incredibly maladroit and bungling, but to Florence, that didn't matter so much. His good sides were much more important to her. It had hurt her to see him running after Camille, and so, in a way, she had been glad when Camille had left. She feared that Humphrey would now begin to wallow in self-pity, asking himself over and over what Richard Poole had that he didn't, why nobody loved him, and why anything he touched seemed to go wrong – as far as relationships were concerned. But well, maybe she was worried for nothing, and Humphrey would take it all nonchalantly and without any trouble. You never knew with him…

On the matter of Humphrey – where was he? She noticed with some concern that Catherine was asking everyone to sit down at the long table she had set up so she could bring the first round of food. It was almost a quarter to eight now – there had been so much chatting, exchanging memories, laughing and bantering that time had flown by. Now, punctuality wasn't Humphrey's strong side, but being 45 minutes late – that was outrageous.

Camille felt the same way. She hadn't expected that Humphrey would arrive in time since he had a tendency to be late, but this was more than his usual delay. She wasn't impressed at all. But well, it was his loss. Catherine shot her an inquiring glance, and Camille nodded – yes, they were going to have their food now, and no, they were not going to wait for Humphrey. The invitation had said 7, and it was already a quarter to eight – they had given him enough time.

So, with some shuffling and shunting, everybody took their place and got comfortable in their seats, and Catherine served up the first round of platters. There was a lot of "ooh" and "aah", and she smiled happily – she loved being praised for her cooking. There was water and wine on the table, Dwayne and Fidel had a beer, and Catherine cleared her throat so she could make the little speech she had prepared.

Richard hoped she wouldn't go on for too long – he was getting hungry now, and the food looked promising. Camille had reassured him that some of it wouldn't be overly spicy, and she'd give him samples to try if she was unsure about something. And, of course, he wasn't keen on yet another speech. This was all turning into a big gung-ho that he'd rather have avoided… but of course, he couldn't really run away from it.

Catherine began to speak – a little nervously – and immediately Richard regretted the touch of crankiness he had just felt welling up.

"You know, when Camille left Saint Marie half a year ago for her big adventure, I had mixed feelings. It's not the first time that I had to let her go, but that didn't make it any easier. Like every mother who has to let go of her child so they can spread their wings, I was concerned… but I knew I had to let her find her own way, that's the way it's supposed to be. I had an idea about her hopes, dreams and plans, but since she wasn't quite sure herself what to expect, we could only speculate. I knew that she wanted to be with the man she loves, and since he couldn't return to Saint Marie, she had to move to Europe. I wasn't sure when I'd see her again, and although I knew that she'd get by on her own, I was worried – what if things didn't go the way she hoped and all that… who would support her, who would listen to her and comfort her in times of trouble?"

She paused for a moment and fidgeted with a napkin, and it became clear that she was struggling with how to express her emotions. She sounded more French than ever before. Richard had already noticed that when Camille was very emotional, her French accent came out stronger (and in extremely stormy situations she seemed to forget how to speak English altogether – that had happened during a couple of arguments, but also during more private and impassioned moments), and it obviously was the same with Catherine. His heart went out to her – she had been so understanding when Camille had flown out to visit him and so supportive when she had decided to move to Europe… yet it must have been tremendously hard for her to see her daughter leaving for good.

Eventually, Catherine continued with a smile "Well… I shouldn't have worried. Thank you, Richard, for making my girl happier than she has ever been, and thank you, Margaret and Robert, for all the support you have given her over the past two years and for letting her become part of your family. I'm happy to confirm that Camille and Richard got married just before Christmas, and that they have agreed on having a blessing in the Honoré church soon. Details like date and time will get discussed with the priests, and you're all invited to attend the service and a reception afterwards… you'll get more information once we have sorted out everything. And now, let's raise our glasses to my daughter and my brand-new son-in-law, Camille and Richard…"

At that point, her voice broke, and she dabbed her eyes with the napkin.

Camille stood up to hug her and shot a pleading look in Richard's direction, and after a moment of silence Richard coughed awkwardly, then got up, too, and said "Wait a minute with raising your glasses… Thank you, Catherine, for your heartfelt words. You don't know how much it means to us to have your – er – support and love. Thanks also to my parents who have supported Camille and me and helped us to get everything – er – sorted out… you're the best. And to everyone here - let me add that I'm honestly – um – touched to see you all gathered here for this welcome party. I've been away from this island for nearly two years, and still my old team – and members of the new team that has formed around my successor – come to spend time with me and Camille – this is very – er – moving, and we both appreciate it more than words can say. As Catherine said, we'll inform you about the details regarding the blessing once we know more, and we'd – er – love to have you around for that – um – event, too. And now, let's finally raise our glasses – here's to all of us, let's have fun and enjoy the evening."

Dwayne raised his bottle and said loudly "Amen, Chief – couldn't have said it better myself!" Everyone laughed, and the atmosphere lightened up a little again.

From the distance, Humphrey heard the babble of voices and the clinking of glasses. He was sitting on a log of driftwood, not all that far away, staring out into the darkness. Then he heard laughter, and he buried his face in his hands. He choked back a sob and wondered what he'd do now. Courage had left him shortly before he had arrived at La Kaz, and he had turned around again and sneaked away to the beach – to think, as he had tried to make himself believe.

The truth was that he had been sitting here, his mind had been wandering, and he hadn't been able to make a decision. He knew that it was wrong to sit and waste time, yet he couldn't muster up the energy and courage to go and join the merry get-together at La Kaz. He didn't quite know what was holding him back… Was he only nervous because of meeting Camille again? He wanted to see her – or didn't he? Actually he wasn't quite sure what he wanted at this point.

"Just ten minutes," he had told himself. Several times. Now it was almost eight, and he was decidedly late. Camille would hate him. And her friends would think he was an idiot – not that he could hold that against them, no, he was behaving like a fool. The fool that he actually was…

He took out his phone and dialed Florence's number.


	7. Welcome Party with a Twist

Chapter 7 – Welcome Party with a Twist

Richard leant back as Florence excused herself because her phone rang. Actually, her handbag began to vibrate – and she hastened to take out the phone to switch it off, but then she saw who was calling and apologised to Richard. She got up and went a few steps away.

She was a nice girl, and from how she had spoken, she appeared to be a smart and devoted DS, Richard mused. Of course, she couldn't compare to Camille. Nobody could. But then, she was younger and less experienced – she would learn with time, and she definitely had potential.

They had laughed about their encounter in the airport hall – she had apologised once again for dropping all her stuff in front of his feet, and he had replied drily that a handbag might be the solution for her problem – although given the size of her water bottle, it would have to be a rather large one.

She had shown him the tiny bag she carried this evening and said "That's just about the size of bag I can bear to carry with me. I hate bags. I have five brothers, you know, and when you want to climb a tree, play cops and robbers, or try that new skateboard trick, bags are in the way, so I learnt to put everything in my pockets from an early age. It's become more difficult, though, the older I got… But I still don't like bags. As it is, I keep forgetting them, you know, and it's always such a fuss to remember where you put them…"

That was interesting – Camille loved bags. In all sizes! But it was good that people were different, wasn't it.

He watched his father chatting with the Commissioner, his mother was engaged in a conversation with Catherine – about food and recipes, as far as he could gather, and Camille was talking to Dwayne. JP and Fidel were exchanging experiences in regard to working with Dwayne. Everybody seemed happy. He was happy, too, and he smiled contentedly.

Juliet watched him for a few moments, then she addressed him by saying "So, how have you been faring since your return to the UK, sir? We were all so terribly shocked when you were attacked back then. Fidel was devastated… until we finally heard that you'd make it. And you're looking good, if you don't mind me saying so."

She smiled and continued "Fidel said it hasn't been the same around here without you, and so he didn't hesitate to accept the position on St. Lucia – of course, it was an excellent opportunity for him as it came with a promotion, but I know how much he liked working with you, and I'm fairly sure he would have stayed on if you had still been here."

Richard raised his eyebrows inquiringly, and Juliet said hastily "That doesn't mean DI Goodman isn't a good boss, sir – don't get me wrong. I just think that the job lost its lifeblood for Fidel after your departure."

Richard thought that Juliet was maybe exaggerating a little, still he was flattered by her remark. He decided to focus on her question, though, and responded "Thank you, Juliet. It's been a long way in rehab, but fortunately, everything turned out well. I started working part time again in September last year, and six months later, I went back full time. I'm in a different line of work now, though…" And he went on to explain – without going into much detail as he (correctly) assumed it wouldn't be of much interest to her, anyway.

Their conversation was interrupted by Camille with a "Sorry, darling… Juliet, would you mind… I've got to abduct my husband for a moment…" Richard got up with an apologetic smile and followed Camille. Florence stood by the bar and looked over to them, apparently a little nervous.

"What's up, Camille – problem?" he asked, leaning on the balustrade. She seemed upset. "Humphrey…" she said, with a decidedly annoyed undertone in her voice. "Ah." His eyes wandered to Florence at the bar. Camille said "Yes, exactly. Florence just told me that he called her. Apparently he's sitting somewhere on the beach, feeling sorry for himself… for whatever stupid reason!"

She rolled her eyes and continued "The thing is that he wonders if he's still welcome to join us here." She imitated a toff accent as accurately as she could, and Richard couldn't help but smile. She went on "I don't know what it is that bugs him, but I find it incredibly rude of him to act like that."

Richard agreed, but pointed out that this wouldn't help to solve the problem or answer the question. "It's pretty much up to you, Camille – do you want him here or not? And what would the consequences of your decision be? As I understand, you want to make peace with him or whatever, so maybe it's a good idea to invite him over. If you say he should go and jump off a cliff, it's okay with me, but he might be offended, and you'd have to deal with a conflict that's as pointless as a hole in the head…"

She was obviously seething, but his answer made her think. Eventually, she nodded and said "You're right. No point in making a racket about his silliness. JP said that his father has been here recently, and that has apparently been a bit challenging so maybe he's in a crisis… still no good reason to let everyone else suffer, but well… I'll let Florence know – she has promised to call him back. Thanks, Richard. I love you, you know?" She leant over to kiss him, they were both momentarily unaware of the surroundings… and then they heard it: "Aaaaah!"

There was a snigger from Dwayne and suppressed laughter from Fidel as a reaction to Dwayne's indiscretion. Camille whispered with a smile "Sorry, I forgot… but we're married, we are officially allowed to do this… and more!" Richard had turned crimson, but his voice was tender when he replied "I guess so… and as long as there's no catcalling or demand for an 'encore', I think it's okay…"

Camille tenderly touched his hand once again and turned around – with a swing of her hips as well a meaningful smile and a frivolous glance over her shoulder that almost made him choke – to walk over to Florence and let her know about the outcome of their little consultation.

Richard returned to his chair, following her with his eyes and smiling to himself – that swing of her hips, the smile and her glance had brought back some memories!

In vain, he tried not to think of the evening that had followed the little 'do' at the station when everyone had congratulated them upon their engagement….

Part of the gift the department had given them had been a somewhat risqué music CD… and surprisingly, it had brought about an unforgettable experience.

He had been tempted to let it 'disappear', but Camille had grabbed it before he had had a chance to do so, and much to his embarrassment, she had insisted on 'listening' to it on the same evening.

The cover (obviously home-made, though thanks to excellent software, it looked rather professional) had already been somewhat suggestive, though not clearly explicit, and the title had made him shudder… "Hot Love"!

It had turned out to be a compilation that someone had made for them, the entire department had signed the inside of the cover – and Richard couldn't help but look at his co-workers with different eyes after that evening. Camille had had a look at the list of songs before she had put it into the CD player. The amused smile that had curved her lips just before she had gently put her hands on the small of his back, pressed herself against him and kissed him had spoken volumes.

And so, Richard had had to listen (with painfully burning ears at first – eventually, though, his ears didn't bother him any more as he focused on other things) to Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin sighing and moaning "Je t'aime... moi non plus" in an extended version, to Donna Summer going on about "Ahaaw, I love to love you, baby" in a special remix version… and a few others he couldn't remember now…

Granted, after a while he hadn't listened any more at all – he had been too preoccupied with what Camille had been doing to 'entertain' him… and with returning the favours.

He was grateful for the dim lighting in Catherine's bar now - he felt his face flushing at the memory. But admittedly, they had had fun together that night…

On the next day, he had ignored all the curious glances and appeared just as tight-lipped and buttoned-up as always. Much to everyone's disappointment, he had seemed completely oblivious to the curiosity around him. And Camille hadn't reacted to the prying peeks around her, either.

Only Liz Andrews had seen the warm glow in Camille's eyes and that particular little smile when she had nodded briefly in response to her question if they had had a nice evening together…

If she had noticed the love bite on Camille's neck that was sparsely concealed by a fluffy scarf, she didn't tell anyone… she could keep a secret, as she had proved before.

Ten minutes later, Humphrey appeared. Camille was behind the bar, gathering drinks, and Richard was in the back room with JP, ready to bring out the second course of food platters. Margaret was having an eye on the oven where Catherine had put some of the food to keep it warm. Dwayne was just telling Robert about Richard's first encounter with the sidecar of his motorbike, and the Commissioner added his two cents to how adventurous it was to be in this particular position… He had made his own experiences with Dwayne's driving style, after all…

Catherine got up to greet Humphrey who smiled sheepishly and made excuses for his late appearance. His eyes wandered around until he finally saw her behind the bar – there she was, as beautiful as ever… His eyes lit up, and forgotten were the thoughts he had entertained earlier today. How could he ever have doubted that she was the one... How had it happened that he had almost forgotten about her sometimes over the past months? She looked wonderful in her sleeveless red blouse with the ruffled front and the black pencil skirt. A little conservative, maybe, but he didn't care. Her hair was shorter now… what a shame… but never mind – she still was amazing.

He didn't see Florence's hurt look. She had hoped he would be thankful for her paving the way for him – and express his gratitude. After all, he had ignored all her previous phonecalls – so why had he expected her to pick up the phone when he had called her? Not to mention that she had been here all these months while Camille had been away and pursued her own life in the meantime… How self-absorbed he was!

She sighed. She knew that kind of behaviour from her brothers, so it didn't really surprise her – but it still hurt. Considering his age, she had thought Humphrey was more mature – but apparently not.

Camille furtively lifted her head and saw Humphrey standing there, looking at her. She sighed inwardly. Oh no, he was wearing those puppy eyes again… Catherine felt the tension and said smoothly "Well, Humphrey, it's nice that you have managed to come after all – we all were a little worried."

She had hardly finished her sentence, when JP and Richard came out of the back room, food platters in their hands. Humphrey didn't notice, but Richard had the chance to observe his successor, and he didn't really like what he saw. This man was perhaps a brilliant detective, but he had no manners, his attire was appalling, and the look in his eyes as he gazed at Camille was clearly inappropriate and could only be categorised as "ogling".

Determinedly, he put the platters on the table and then went to join Camille behind the bar, helping her with loading the trays. Together, they carried them to a bench that was placed near the balustrade behind the big table, then they turned around, well aware of everyone's gawping. Camille went up to Humphrey and said softly "Hello again, sir – good to see you!"

Before he could make a move or a reply, Catherine took a deep breath and said "Well, Humphrey, since you haven't been here when the introductions were made… I don't have to tell you who Camille is, obviously, but let me introduce you to Richard Poole, Camille's husband. Richard, this is Humphrey Goodman, as you may have gathered…"

Richard came closer, extended his hand and said with more friendliness than he felt "Hello, Inspector. Nice to meet you. I also happened to be your first case here on Saint Marie, so let me thank you for solving it." He didn't want Humphrey to call him by his first name at this point, so he set the standard by addressing him with "Inspector".

Humphrey failed to take the proffered hand – he clearly was at a loss for words, so after an embarrassing pause, Richard continued "Let me also introduce my parents – I think you have briefly met my mother," - he nodded in her direction, and Humphrey smiled automatically – "and this is my father." He gestured in Robert's direction – his father took the cue and said politely "Hello Mr Goodman – nice to meet you!" Humphrey reacted robotically and replied "Ahem… yes, thank you, Mr Poole – glad to meet you, too."

It took Humphrey a while to get over the shock, but his upbringing helped him. He sat down and managed to exchange inane chit-chat with everyone, automatically talked to Fidel and Juliet, teased Dwayne and JP and made conversation with Margaret.

Catherine's 'introduction' had had the effect of an ice-cold shower – undoubtedly, that had been what she had intended. After the second course of platters was finished off, she got up to get more drinks, and Humphrey followed her to the bar. He had not noticed what he had eaten, and he had no idea what he had talked about. He was clearly shocked. With big, desperate eyes he asked her "Why didn't you warn me, Catherine? I thought we were friends…"

She looked at him and said compassionately "We are, Humphrey. But it was none of my business to let you know in advance. Besides, it has only just happened – they got married right before Christmas."

"But you must have known..." he said and added as an afterthought, "... and of course, they haven't only just met and reunited – they must have been in touch for a while... why didn't anybody tell me?"

Suddenly, Camille stood next to him and said softly "Sorry, sir... but nobody knew, only Maman. I – I asked her not to tell anyone. And when I left, I didn't know what would happen, so..."

"Camille, I... I don't know what to say..." he stuttered.

Richard watched them from his seat, argus-eyed and with a good portion of irritation. He hardly knew Humphrey Goodman, and it made him uncomfortable that Goodman knew quite a bit about his own past – although Camille had assured him that it had been her who had read his diaries back then, not him... she had only passed on relevant information, but still... it was disconcerting.

And he remembered only too well how difficult Humphrey had made it for Camille to take time off, how he had made her unwelcome advances, how he had asked her indecent questions, how he had wanted to know whom she spent her time with, how he had thrown sticks and stones in her way when she had wanted to leave for France...

No, he wasn't too keen on getting to know Humphrey Goodman any better.

But he knew that it was important to Camille to sort this out. And at the end of the day, he wanted this chapter to be closed, too, so he had to let her go ahead and get it done... It wouldn't be good to have this unfinished issue hovering over their heads. As long as this wasn't resolved, Camille would feel that she owed Humphrey something – and Richard didn't want that. It would only make things difficult for her – and for him.

He was well aware that this all would imply a private meeting of the two of them, and he wasn't excited about that – but there was no way around it. And then again - Camille was married to him, after all, so it was not like there was any kind of competition going on between him and Goodman… It was just that he didn't want her to get hurt. Goodman looked shocked, and who knew what he'd say…

With a frown and an inward sigh, he decided to stop worrying. But he still felt uncomfortable as he watched her touching Humphrey's arm and talking to him – in a soothing way, apparently.

As the evening went on, Catherine decided to have a little music in the background – not to the extent that it would disturb the conversation, but loud enough so people could get up and dance if they wanted to. Fidel and Juliet had gone to dance a little, and Dwayne, JP and Florence had followed them.

Florence had exchanged a few words with Humphrey, but she was so peeved with his behaviour that she had distanced herself a little and turned to other people. It wouldn't do any harm to show him the cold shoulder for a while… Not that Humphrey noticed – he was so caught up in his own little bubble that he didn't realise how upsetting and offensive his conduct was. To him, it only counted that he had been left in the dark regarding Camille's commitments and engagements, and he felt hurt, humiliated and vexed – instead of feeling ashamed, worried and doubtful about his own actions, like he had felt earlier on. All in all, he still was miserable, though – so that hadn't changed.

He decided not to let it show, though, and tried to join the conversation around him. He felt curious about Richard Poole and what Camille might see in him – during his investigations, Camille had put great emphasis on respecting Poole's private sphere – she had read his diaries, Humphrey had only had a look at the e-mails Richard had exchanged with Angela Birkett, and he had seen the photo albums that Mrs Poole had sent. The diaries had been off limits for him – and he had respected Camille's adamant attitude there. Not that he would have had any other choice – she could be rather stubborn, after all, and at that time, he was still trying to find orientation and get a feeling for the island and the atmosphere in the station. He had understood that the team had been shaken up – they hadn't only lost their Chief, but also a good friend, as it had seemed… although he had looked like a stuffed shirt on the photo Humphrey had seen – and he still looked the same way now.

Listening to Richard explaining to the Commissioner how the international department was structured and organised and how the cooperation with the French unit was managed, he couldn't help but wonder what everyone saw in this man. As far as he was concerned, he could only see a pedantic, nitpicky, overly accurate middle-aged man who wasn't even really attractive. He wasn't tall, he wasn't fashionable, he wasn't smooth in his behaviour… good grief, what on earth was it that made Camille choose Richard over him? Had she completely lost her mind? She was so lively, so adventurous, so funny… why would she want to be with someone like Richard – if she could have anybody else, including himself?

But they were clearly devoted to one another… Humphrey swallowed hard when he saw the look in her eyes when Camille came over to join the conversation. Or did she come over because she wanted to be close to her husband? She briefly touched Richard's shoulder, and Richard turned to her, giving her a tender smile – the intimacy of this moment and the obvious love in their eyes was too much for him, and he got up abruptly to get another drink.

Camille furrowed her brow. She was honestly displeased with Humphrey's behaviour. She had always thought Richard could be fairly childish when he was in his worst mood, but he was clearly surpassed by Humphrey tonight.

The Commissioner – who just had stood up and made ready to leave - made a remark about Humphrey being a bit beside himself and said sotto voce "His father has been here recently. Made a big ruckus about how he wanted the Inspector to leave Saint Marie and all that. Even showed up at the Government House to convince me to release him. It's obviously none of my business, but it really made me wonder a bit."

He shook Richard's hand again, patted Camille's cheek and promised to come to their blessing. Then, he left, and Richard sighed with relief. He liked Patterson, but he still felt slightly uncomfortable in his presence. That feeling would most probably never go away…

Humphrey was now approaching the dance floor. He had decided that he might just as well have fun – and Catherine's cocktails helped, so he had just asked her for another one. He would pick it up later, though – now it was time to dance…

Richard watched the scenario with mixed feelings. This was developing into a farce, and if things continued like this, disaster would strike. He was upset with Humphrey for making a mess out of Camille's welcome party. He didn't care so much about partying, and he knew that his parents had come along because of Camille and him only, but he worried that Camille might be hurt – and she hadn't deserved that.

Margaret saw the look on his face, and she understood that he wasn't too happy.

Florence wasn't happy, either. She felt that Humphrey was making an idiot of himself, but there was no way of stopping him… And she was upset with how he had not even acknowledged her presence. How selfish of him.

The little group on the patio danced for a while, and there was some singing along, bantering and good humoured exchanging of jokes. Dwayne laughed out loud at a silly remark that JP made, Juliet and Florence danced and talked about Saint Marie and their respective memories of school – they had found out that Juliet had gone to school with one of Florence's brothers, and so Florence was familiar with a lot of names that Juliet remembered from back then – and Humphrey mostly danced by himself. He had clearly had to much to drink, and his movements became less controlled by the minute.

Before anything too drastic could happen, though, the Latin rhythms suddenly stopped, and Catherine switched to a mix of pop, classics and crooners. Soon, the air was filled with standard dance music. As she had hoped, Humphrey fell on a nearby chair while Fidel and Juliet began to dance and Dwayne set his beer on a table and took Florence's hand, leading her to JP and saying merrily "Show him how to dance with a lady," before sitting down next to Humphrey.

At first, JP was embarrassed and flustered, but Florence smiled at him and said "Come on, JP – let's go… it's not that difficult, you know. I promise I won't bite!" And she showed him a few steps, the two laughed together, and it was clear that they were having fun. Dwayne was pleased – JP really needed to loosen up a little, and Florence obviously appreciated the distraction – and turned to Humphrey who suddenly looked very glum and appeared almost fossilized. "Look, Chief – why don't we…"

He didn't get any further, though – Humphrey fell to the side and landed on the floor with a muffled thud.


	8. After the Party

Chapter 8 – After the Party

Late on the next morning, Camille woke up to the noise of the door opening and the faint scent of fresh coffee. With her eyes closed, she heard Richard coming in, shutting the door with a soft kick of his foot, and setting a tray on her nightstand.

He leant down to her and noticed immediately that she only pretended to be asleep – he had to smile inwardly, but decided to play along.

Very carefully, he sat down on the bedside and began to stroke her hair and her forehead. With one finger, he followed the curve of her face down to her chin. She smiled almost invisibly. His hand moved down to her neck and pushed away the sheets, then he leant over her, and his lips began to caress her tenderly… She couldn't feign indifference any longer – she sighed happily and opened her eyes. He lifted his head, placed a gentle kiss on her cheek and said gently "Time for breakfast, my love. I've brought you a selection of what was left on the buffet – I hope you'll like it."

She slid her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, and with a shiver of delight she felt his hands and his lips on her skin. "Breakfast in bed - what a way to start the day," she whispered in his ear. He nuzzled her neck and said "Well, it's past ten, and breakfast time is officially over, so I snatched whatever I could…"

He wanted to pull back, but she didn't let him go for another moment. Then she finally released him and sat up. "Is it really that late?" she asked. "I can't believe I've slept this long… you have been up for a while already, haven't you? Ah, this coffee is wonderful…" She held the mug in her hands and took several small sips of the hot beverage.

"Ah well… maybe one and a half hours or so, a little less than that, I think. Took me ages to wake up, though, so I spent quite some time under the shower! I thought I'd let you sleep in – yesterday evening has been rather emotional for you, and I figured you might be exhausted. I had breakfast with my parents – they're off to Guadeloupe today – should be on the ferry by now. Mum said she wanted to show Dad some of the places there. I didn't realise, but of course she spent more time there than here because I was shipped off to hospital there only a few days after she had arrived here… Anyway, you can have breakfast now, and we'll just take it easy then. We have the appointment with the priests in the afternoon, and I reckon you'll go and see your ex-boss later on?"

She nodded, with a total lack of enthusiasm. "I hope he'll remember and won't zoom off right after work! I want to get this out of the way, once and for all…" she said with arched eyebrows and a slightly disgusted undertone in her voice.

Richard snorted and replied drily "I rather assume he'll be all remorseful and feel guilty today – plus I reckon he'll have an awful headache. But I think that if he tries to disappear right after work, Florence and JP will remind him. And maybe even Dwayne. They all were pretty shocked when Goodman fell off his chair. Fortunately, your mother reacted quickly. How handy that she always has a bucket of cold water in the back room…"

Camille laughed at the memory of her angry mother, pouring water over Humphrey – he had spluttered, puffed and spewed and finally come back to life after his sudden departure into the land of nod! And really, it had served him right to be brought back into reality like that… fortunately, the Commissioner had already been gone by the time this had happened. Selwyn Patterson had little patience for people who didn't fufil his expectations, and behaving like a stupid dimwit was not on the list of 'qualities' he looked for when it came to senior officers.

"Yes, isn't it," she confirmed. "Originally, it was an emergency tool to fight fire – her previous oven was fairly self-willed in a number of ways. She has a fire extinguisher, too, for a real case of fire, but she says that a bucket of cold water can come in handy in a variety of situations. She once had to go between two men having a heated argument in the bar – they were already getting ready for a fistfight… - and the water cooled them down fairly quickly, as you can guess."

She laughed again, then she got serious and said thoughtfully "I really don't know what has come over him. I mean, he always liked a good cocktail – but he used to know when he's had enough. Dwayne has told me, though, that recently he has been overdoing it a little, and JP and Dwayne apparently have had a jolly good time with him lately. He must be in some sort of crisis."

Richard almost rolled his eyes, but refrained from doing so. He couldn't understand where the point in getting drunk was, anyway, especially when you were in a 'crisis' – all that happened was that you lost control, acted like an oaf and felt horribly sick the next day. You might numb the pain for a while, but at what cost? On top of everything else, you were a laughing stock, plus your problems still were there… and they usually had multiplied because of your stupid behaviour. He had seen that happening many, many times, and right after the first time, he had sworn to himself that he'd never lose control like that. He certainly didn't mind the occasional drink, but he knew his limit, and he didn't overstep it.

He didn't bother to say all that. Camille already knew his opinion on the matter. Instead, he said "Whatever it is, he's having a hard time, and it makes him forget his responsibilities and sense of propriety. I assume he's not always like that, otherwise you wouldn't have become friends with him… I know, I know, I have been an asocial hermit and even ran away from my own birthday party in my first year here, and that was pretty awful, so I might not be the right person to judge people's behaviour… but at least excessive drinking was not on the agenda when I was Chief of Police here in Honoré."

He knew it sounded pedantic, and he hoped she wouldn't think he was feeling superior. But as far as he was concerned, Humphrey was a gormless twit, and he had completely discredited himself with his behaviour last night. He might be a good detective, but regarding his personality, Richard found it hard to respect him.

"You don't like him, I know…" She said it almost a little reproachfully. He frowned and said "I can't really say that much. I don't actually know him, but from first impression, I don't have any particular reason to like or even respect him. At best, he amuses me in a weird way. You know, he reminds me of Shaggy… that guy in the Scooby-Doo cartoons… and I always found that rather silly."

She looked at him blankly, and he said incredulously "You don't know that? I'm sure you do! Scooby-Doo is that big dog, a Great Dane, and Shaggy and his friends are detectives?" He went on to describe the show, and suddenly the penny dropped, and she began to laugh. "Good grief, you are right! I never realised, but you are right! I haven't seen much of that cartoon as it wasn't so popular here when I was a child, but of course, you have a point… I can't believe I haven't seen that resemblance! And of course, he's blond like Shaggy, and he wore that horrible green shirt yesterday, and the trousers were brownish, so that's like Shaggy, too…" She couldn't stop laughing now and almost spilt her coffee. Richard gently took the mug out of her hands and set it on the nightstand to prevent any potential catastrophes.

"You know, Camille… I'm willing to respect his abilities as a detective – like you, the Commissioner spoke highly of him in that department and said that Goodman is excellent at his job, although fairly disorganised. And I take your word that he is caring, generous and funny – as far as funny goes, I believe that at any time. But he hasn't really done much to recommend himself yesterday night, so…"

"Yes, I know," she sighed. "But whatever, I'll have to go and see him. He wanted me to come to the shack, but I didn't want that. Too… intimate, if you know what I mean. And too many memories hovering around. Maybe not for him, but for me… I think a more neutral surrounding will be more appropriate, and well… I was wondering if you'd wait for me at La Kaz until I'm back? I mean… if I'm not back after a certain time, you could come and check on me and see how things are going?"

Richard sensed that asking for his support so openly took her a bit of an effort. She usually took care of things by herself. She had always been fiercely independent – just like himself, for that matter. But their relationship had evolved over time, and little by little, asking for help didn't seem to be such a big thing any more. Fortunately.

"Sure. I can do that. But now, eat your breakfast, and then we'll see what's next."

The appointment with the priests went surprisingly well. The Honoré church was free for the day they had suggested – the 2nd of January -, and both priests were fairly open to their respective wishes. Father John hadn't been so excited at first that they didn't want a real wedding, but "only" a blessing, but after they had explained, he understood – they both had grown up with different denominations, and an oecumenical wedding service would still give the hint that one denomination was "better" than the other, so to speak, because one priest would be "in charge".

In a blessing, this wouldn't be emphasised so strongly, and they felt more comfortable with that. Father Andrew from the Anglican Church nodded gravely when they spoke about their feelings on this, and since Father John had no further objections, they agreed they could proceed in the suggested manner, and everything was settled fairly swiftly.

It was too early for Camille to leave for the station, so she got a glass of mango juice and sat down with Richard who was having a cup of tea – Catherine had brought him a freshly brewed pot - and he felt that he didn't have a single worry in the world. What else could he want – he was alive, he was sitting next to the most wonderful woman on the planet (he was even married to her!), he wasn't hot or bothered, he had a nice cup of tea to enjoy – wasn't that just perfect?! Catherine had even saved some puzzle books for him that a British tourist had left with her, so he could entertain himself with solving sudoku and crossword puzzles during Camille's absence later on.

They were chatting away about the forthcoming blessing and what the priests had said, the plans they had for the remainder of their holiday and some of the news they had heard last night.

Richard mentioned that Juliet had said that Fidel had partly been so happy about the job offer on St. Lucia because of the different atmosphere in the Honoré police station since Humphrey had taken over, and Camille nodded thoughtfully and commented "I can see the point. I think Humphrey just never lived up to the standards that you set, at least that's how Fidel might have felt. You know how accurate he is… that doesn't mean that Humphrey doesn't do his job properly, it's just that he's doing it differently from what Fidel thinks is 'the right way'. Like you, he feels strongly about 'procedure', you know…"

They both remembered Fidel's eagerness – it had sometimes even been too much for Richard, but he had always understood that the younger officer meant well and was keen on doing the right thing. From what Fidel had mentioned, he was rather happy on St Lucia, also because of the island's background that resembled Saint Marie's history with all the to and fro between France and the UK, although it had been consistently British since the Congress of Vienna in 1814 and there weren't so many French speaking inhabitants these days.

The only drawback was that he and Juliet missed their respective families, but they had made friends, and Rosie was about to start kindergarten soon, so that would enlarge their social circle even further. And Fidel's new chief was a lady in her late 50s who had taken her new Detective Sergeant and his family under her wings, so that helped, too. Apparently, she was a very maternal person.

Finally, Camille had finished her juice, and a glance at her watch showed that it was time to set off for the station now. She sighed as she took up her bag and then leant down to kiss Richard. It still felt somewhat strange to him to be kissed in public (come to think of it, being kissed at all still was somewhat wondrous!), but he was slowly getting used to it, and he had to admit that he quite liked it – unless people were commenting on it.

"See you later, darling, and take care," he said. She nodded and said pleadingly "An hour, Richard – no longer… I hope to be back long before then, but I can't really make promises. If he wants to go to the beach or something, I'll send you a text, so you'll know where to find me."

She wasn't keen on the impending conversation at all, but it had to get done. She felt sorry for Humphrey – this all had come as a shock for him. But he had also really annoyed her yesterday evening – he had acted like a petulant child and almost spoilt the party with his silly behaviour. Fortunately, he had pulled himself together after Catherine had almost drowned him, and the rest of the evening had gone okay. Since his clothes (not only his shoes this time!) had been drenched, he hadn't stayed on much longer, and once he had been gone, everyone had breathed more freely again.

It seemed odd that he hadn't turned to Florence after her – Camille's - departure… but then again, from what Catherine had said, he had turned to Florence 'in a way' – they had spent much time together, and he genuinely seemed to like her. It appeared, though, that he wasn't sure of himself. Maybe he just was cautious this time around and didn't want to be so obvious again? Or he didn't feel so deeply this time? Or he considered Florence being too young for him? There were already a number of years between him and Camille, and Florence was only in her mid 20s, so the age gap between her and Humphrey was substantial. Camille wondered if that played a part in the whole scenario. She and Richard had several years between them as well, but not as many as Humphrey and Florence…

Florence was mature for her age, though. And she had clearly been very hurt by Humphrey's behaviour the night before, so she had feelings for him. Maybe she had interpreted too much into his affection and had now realised that it wasn't built on solid ground. But whatever the case might be, Catherine couldn't understand or explain his misdemeanour to Camille. She had admitted that Humphrey had been drinking more lately, but she had always thought he'd know when to stop… Apparently not…

When Camille had said that they'd need to talk, Humphrey had agreed and suggested she'd come to the shack. But as she had already explained to Richard – there were too many memories connected to that place… Memories of the evenings she had spent there with Richard before he got stabbed, and memories of the evenings she had spent there later with Humphrey (and often the rest of the team, too) – wishing it was Richard who'd wait for her on the veranda, who'd nag at her for being late, who'd go into a lecture about whatever… who'd tell her about his time in London, who'd give her a brief introduction into stargazing, who'd make her laugh with his unexpected deadpan remarks. And who'd make her heart beat faster… Oh, how she had missed him…

Sure, Humphrey had made changes around the house, so it wasn't the same place any more – he had bought a new, larger bed, hung up the hammock, added fancy cushions, re-arranged the furniture and generally made the place his own. But to Camille, it was still Richard's shack – and she resented Humphrey for living there when she wanted it to be inhabitated by Richard.

As she was heading to the station, she remembered the morning she had come to pick up Humphrey at the shack when the surfer school case had happened… He had been out running, and when he had come back, all covered in sweat, and had needed to shower and change clothes so they could set off together, she had sat out on the veranda steps, closing her eyes and thinking of Richard.

Richard, unwittingly sexy in his striped pyjamas, with his hair sticking out, chasing away the free range chickens, smiling at her sheepishly. Richard, turning scarlet when she had told him to sleep naked. Richard, brushing his teeth and explaining his latest homespun experiment at the same time. Richard, trying to cover up his embarrassment in oh so many situations. Richard, being his very own strange mix of innocence and sophistication…

It hadn't been all that long since her Christmas visit in the UK – six or eight weeks only – and she had sat there, wondering how he might be doing, remembering their first night together, thinking of how safe she had felt when he had held her tight and comforted her when she had fallen apart and cried in his arms, trying to recall his own specific scent – a mix of his after shave and something indefinable, specifically 'Richard' –, daydreaming about what it would be like next time they'd see one another… and she had felt an overwhelming desire to be in his arms once again…

At the same time, she had known that until that 'next time', the T-shirt that she had brought with her from her Christmas visit would have to do… she had snatched it from his laundry bin and never washed it, and when she had felt particularly lonely, she had worn it around home, imagining he was there. She had been aware of how sentimental this had been – but it had helped and comforted her. Actually, she still had one of his T-shirts now – in Paris – and whenever she was overcome by the longing to be near him, she put it on…

Anyway, she had been lost in memories, and then Humphrey had come out of the shack, dressed in his usual sloppy manner, with a stain on his jacket, and she had had to face reality…

Of course, that hadn't been his fault, but well, it had been hard not to go nuts about his antics under those circumstances.

It had been a lucky strike that she had met Nicky again during the investigations for this case – at least he had helped her to find distraction. They had gone surfing together a couple of times, like in the old days – only that she had made it clear from the start that this would not be the reawakening of their old relationship. She hadn't wanted closeness, she had wanted camaraderie, without the necessity of explaining herself too deeply. As she had mentioned to Richard – there were several reasons for Nicky being an 'ex', and one of them was his oversized ego, but as a friend he was fun, and when she was with him, other men left her alone.

She had told him that her feelings were engaged otherwise, and Nicky had been okay with that – he had just split up with his girlfriend, and he hadn't been on the lookout for anything else at that point. So, they had enjoyed surfing together, sometimes they had had a drink together – but that had been it. They hadn't kept in touch when Camille had left for her new job. She hadn't even let him know about her departure – he had been away on a trip at the time -, and she didn't care whether or not she'd meet him again during her current holiday. They had both taken advantage of one another, each of them with open eyes, and that had worked out just fine. Neither of them had wanted anything else.

Camille was getting closer to the station. Suddenly, she heard the noise of a motorbike being started, and a few seconds afterwards, she saw Dwayne approaching her. He stopped when he saw her, took off his helmet and said with a jerky movement of his head "He's in there. We didn't even have to remind him. Looks miserable, mind you, and had a smashing headache all day long… be gentle with him, Camille!" Camille nodded and said "No worries. He will survive."

They exchanged some chit-chat, then Camille saw JP and Florence leaving the station and heading down the road to the beach – together. Dwayne noticed her gaze and turned around. "Ah, the youngsters! I guess Florence is a bit upset with Humph – er – the Chief. Has been very correct and cold towards him today. Can't blame her. He spent so much time with her over the past few months, they've been at your mother's bar quite often, danced and had fun, and then you come back and he behaves like a mooncalf."

He shook his head and went on "How daft is that when anyone in their right mind could see you weren't interested – not before you left, and now… well, now you're married, and you're obviously even less interested, if that's possible at all…. That's so cool about you and the Chief, Camille – best news ever. And he's so much more relaxed now! - But anyway, as for Florence, JP was really good to her yesterday. They're friends, after all. I think this has opened his eyes somewhat, if you know what I mean. He thought everyone is perfect here, but the incident yesterday evening showed him that nobody is all good or all bad. We all have our not so great sides. And Florence might realise that having a few people who are 'just friends' can be better than focusing too much on one person and thinking they are special…"

He put on his helmet again and said "Have to dash now, Camille – see you around!"

She stepped back and let him pass. Oh dear… That wouldn't be fun. She knew she'd hurt him with what she'd have to say. But there was no other way. He had to understand that there hadn't been anything between them, and that he had been running after an illusion, building a castle in the air… and that he'd have to sort out his life somehow. Only he could do that – nobody else.

With a sigh, she turned around to the station and began to climb up the familiar steps.


	9. Confrontation

Chapter 9 - Confrontation

When Camille entered the station, Humphrey got up from his chair and came up to her to greet her. He seemed tired and exhausted, and there was a look of defeat in his eyes that almost scared Camille in its intensity.

Camille hardly had the chance to look around – she noticed that there had been some minor remodeling in the station since she had left, though - Humphrey was eager to show that he regretted his behaviour, just as Richard had foreseen, and pulled out a chair for her. She sat down reluctantly, and he took his seat behind his desk again. They looked at one another in silence for a moment, then they both began to speak at the same time. They had to laugh, and that broke the ice – the same situation had occurred a couple of times in the past, too – and so it felt familiar and made it easier to take up the thread again.

"You go first," Camille said. Humphrey nodded and looked down on his hands before lifting his head again and saying with heartfelt regret "I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for yesterday, Camille… For being late at first, and then… for everything else… I don't know what has come over me. I think I was confused. I didn't know how to feel and what to think. When you left… it was awful at first. After I while, I thought I had moved on, but then… well, maybe not. I – I shouldn't have – I mean… oh well, you know what I mean. Yesterday it just all came back to me again – the good times we had, the nights out, the cases we solved together – just everything…" – he made a helpless, all-embracing gesture – "and I couldn't understand that it had ended… and that you are married now… It seemed to come so sudden…" His voice trailed off.

"I accept your apologies. And I can see why you've been confused," Camille said softly, and he smiled with relief. His face fell, though, when she continued firmly "Maybe I should have told you, but the thing is… We have always been good colleagues. And friends. You must understand, however, that there never has been anything beyond 'just everything', as you called it. The friendship is still there… so that hasn't ended. Anything else was a figment of your imagination. I hope you can see that now."

The hurt look in his eyes almost stopped her from continuing, but she steeled herself and went on to say "And well… as far as 'suddenly' being married is concerned… It may seem like a knee-jerk thing to you because you don't know all the details, and I never talked about them to anybody. Only Maman had an idea, but even she didn't know everything."

She looked at him, a gentle smile appeared on her face as she thought of Richard who was sitting in the bar now, waiting for her… and she continued "I've been in love with Richard for a very long time. It started long before you arrived here… You remember how devastated I was when he got stabbed, and when his life was hanging on a thread I was half insane with worry. It was agony. You might not have noticed how deep it went because I didn't say anything to you… but I was… very shaken and beside myself. I couldn't do much but help to solve the case – and apart from that, all I could do was go and see him to… to support him. As it is, I visited him regularly and made trips to Guadeloupe, too, when he was transferred there."

He looked at her incredulously. "You did? Good grief. I had no idea. Why didn't you ever mention it?"

She said softly "I didn't think it was anybody's business. And I didn't know what would come out of it all, so… I kept quiet. As for my trips to Guadeloupe… you were only settling in then, so it might have escaped you, and you might not have understood what it meant to me when it turned out that he'd survive… You were new here, and I trusted you as a detective, as a professional investigator – but how was I supposed to know what kind of person you were? I don't trust easily, you know. I have worked undercover, it's become second nature for me to be on my guard with people I don't know. And in the end – it just was something very private, you know."

He looked at her, astonishment in his eyes. He had never heard her talk that way – to him, she had mostly appeared to be happy-go-lucky, vibrant, optimistic and positive. Yes, he had known that she had her issues – the unexpected encounter with her father had showed him a side of her he hadn't been aware of until then. But never had he realised the true complexity and depth of her character.

She took a deep breath and finally said it so it would be done – once and for all times. "Whatever, I hate to say it so bluntly again, but you and I never were an item, and you know it… I've never said or done anything to encourage you. I didn't flirt, and I didn't treat you any different than I treated others. I know that when your marriage fell apart you thought that you were in love with me, but really, if you try to look at it from a more neutral point of view – wasn't it more that I stood for something new, for island life and fun while Sally stood for your old life, boredom and stagnation?"

He stared at her in disbelief – how could she say that? He began to protest, but her next words silenced him. She said "What if you had met me in a hardware store on High Street in Hungerford? I doubt you would have found me so interesting…"

It seemed like he took a moment to think, and she saw the cogwheels starting to move in his head as he began to understand what she was trying to say.

She went on "Look, Richard and I have met here, and I will admit that the culture clash between the two of us was rather – er – intense. We fell in love, anyway. And when he was shipped back to the UK, I knew he wouldn't return to the Caribbean – it just didn't seem very likely. He had suffered too much here – the climate had been making things hard for him. Some people just don't thrive in the tropics, they suffer. Even if he had made an effort – and I know he'd been thinking about it for a while - why would I want him to suffer? I knew I could survive in European climate – I have done that before, and it was okay. I love him… beyond what words can express… and wherever he was, I wanted to be with him. Could you say the same thing about me? Would you want to sit with me in a basement flat in… say, Hull, or Wolverhampton, with the rain pouring down? As far as I'm concerned, I don't care where Richard would be posted. I'd follow him anywhere and make the best of the situation."

As she saw him pondering her words, she figured there was no need for him to know that the first thing she'd do if she found Richard and herself in a basement flat in Hull or Wolverhampton was try to get them out of there, but she had wanted to come up with a pithy example. And he seemed to understand what she was aiming at.

"So, you're saying it was only wishful thinking on my side? An infatuation?" he finally asked. She nodded and said "I like you, and we have always been friends, but nothing more. I felt safe with you – and I needed all the support I could get when I was going through that rough patch. You have always been kind to me, also when my father showed up and I was so confused… and the team was like a substitute family for me, if you get me."

"I see… but why did you say early this year that you had to make more of an effort and put yourself out there? I thought that meant that you were finally… ready for a new relationship… and you spoke about dates and went out with Nicky and all that… I thought I might finally have a chance…"

She sighed. Why did she have to explain all this?

She took a moment to think and find the right words, then she said "My Christmas visit in the UK had made it clear that I needed to leave the cocoon of the team and the comfort zone I had been moving in. I knew then that I would have to make a move and take action, and I felt that I had spent enough time in this sheltered space. I also knew I would go away, so I had to get prepared somehow and meet new people, if that makes sense."

He nodded, and then mused "When you were offered that job… it came out of the blue to me. I hadn't had any idea that you… that you weren't happy here."

Camille looked at him thoughtfully and said "You know, happiness is relative. I've always enjoyed island life, and Saint Marie is – well, paradise. But the point was that I couldn't stay here any more because I wanted to be with Richard. He couldn't come back to Saint Marie, so… as I said, that was my only choice, and they approached me at the right moment. It was hard for me to say goodbye, but I wanted to go, nevertheless – and I never wanted to hurt anyone with my departure."

"That's why you asked me to say I was pleased for you when you got the offer?" he asked.

"Yes, I think so," she responded.

"But then you seemed okay when… when I said you wouldn't get the transfer! Why? I mean, you said ' _c'est la vie_ ' and shrugged it off…"

She glanced down on her hands, fidgeted with her bag for a moment, then looked straight into his eyes and said firmly "I knew that if I couldn't go then, I'd leave soon afterwards. The French wanted to have me, and they would have made other offers. The transfer just was the most convenient way to do it. If nothing had worked out, I would have applied formally, quit my job here and finished my period of notice before moving. You couldn't have stopped me if I had wanted to quit like that. You could avert an immediate transfer, but not a formal resignation. It would have taken longer, but I would have done it."

He was baffled. Never had he taken this into consideration. Again, he stuttered "I had no idea, Camille. How blind I have been!"

She smiled forgivingly and explained once more "Well, Saint Marie will always be where my roots are, and I will return here to refuel and relax, but it's not where I'll be spending my everyday life. Look… I love Richard more than my life here on Saint Marie, and I want to be with him - basically it boils down to that…"

"... and then I explained that there was no point in dwelling on all that any longer and that I had the feeling he needed to take some time off and find out where he was in life and what he really wanted. He told me about his father's visit and how it had disconcerted and upset him, and all that – I didn't really want to hear about it, but you know what it can be like… and after all, I had just hit him over the head by saying that he had only imagined a whole lot of stuff that had been really important to him. Nobody likes being told that they've lived in a dreamworld, and so I kept listening… I figured I owed it to him."

Richard and Camille were sitting on a big boulder together, on the beach near their hotel. She had come to La Kaz eventually – just before the 'deadline' she had set had run out. Richard had just finished his tea when he had seen her coming up to him, a mix of relief, sadness and exhaustion in her eyes. He had got up and taken her in his arms, and she had put her head on his shoulder and sighed.

"Promise me we'll go away next summer… preferably to a hideous seaside town in the UK where we can enjoy complete anonymity and won't be confronted with any skeletons from the past…" she had urged him with a desperate undertone. He had laughed softly and inquired "That bad?" She had just sighed once more and begged him to hold her a little tighter for a moment.

Finally they had broken apart, and he had asked "Beach?" She had nodded, and they had walked down the street together, hand in hand, without talking. When they had reached the sandy part of the beach, Camille had taken off her shoes, and they had kept walking together. Little by little, she had then told him how the conversation had developed, and how she had struggled to find the right words.

Richard had mused that her personality had evolved over the years and that it became obvious in situations like this. The experiences of the past few years had made her look at things differently. She had realised that she wasn't invincible and invulnerable, either, and that had made her become more patient with people. She understood better now how fragile everyone could be. It was like she was seeing the disoriented child in Humphrey. While he personally didn't really care for Humphrey, he had seen how important it was for her not to hurt him more than absolutely necessary. She had become kinder in general, as it seemed.

As they had reached an area with big boulders that indicated that their hotel was close, they had sat down together. Camille had noticed with a smile that Richard had completely forgotten to take out a handkerchief to sit on – he had just plopped down on one of the boulders. He had changed… he had become less uptight, less argumentative, less 'absolute'. He didn't complain so much any more. He was just grateful to be alive. Mostly, at least. Sometimes, he fell back into old patterns, but generally, he had mellowed quite a bit. And yet, he still was the same person…

He looked at her and said with a smile "I feel very honoured that you love me more than Saint Marie, you know." She giggled and replied "Mind you, I had to come up with something obvious, blatant… I honestly believe it wasn't me. It was what he thought I was, what I stood for in his eyes, if you know what I mean… He didn't even know me, to begin with. He just kind of 'wanted' me because of what he thought I was. With you, I never had that issue – the idea that you were in love with me because I symbolised the Caribbean was just plain ridiculous. If anything, my French Caribbean descent and temperament was rather horrifying than a bonus in your eyes…"

His smile was tender when he said "I wouldn't say it like that, Camille… It's part of who you are, and it's not a part that I dislike. It's just a part that I don't always understand and that can drive me insane… but I love you, anyway. But you are right, it didn't make things easy for me, that certainly is true."

He took her hand and went on "Whatever. So you told him he needs to find his feet and sort out what he really wants… and then?"

"Then… he said I may be right – mind you, I knew that much from the start… And then I gave him…" she stopped, bit her lip and shoved her free hand into her hair, unsure about how to continue.

They were silent for a moment. Then Richard spoke again. "You gave him the compass ring?" he helped.

She looked at him, her eyes wide. For ages, the ring in its box had burnt a metaphorical hole into her toiletry bag, she had been worried and unsure about it, she had not wanted Richard to know about it, afraid that he might draw the wrong conclusions. And now he was sitting there, talking about it matter-of-factly. She was dumbfounded.

He saw her incredulous gaze and explained "It fell out of your toiletry bag one day while you were in London. The box opened, and that's how I saw it. I picked it up, and I saw the note that was attached to it…" As she still remained silent, just staring at him, he hastened to add "You must believe me, I didn't snoop around!"

That brought her back to life, and she squeaked "I know. You wouldn't do that. But how long… how long have you known about it?"

"I think four – no, five months or so? It fell out when you came to stay for the second time after your – er – initial visit after the transfer…"

"And you never said a word about it? Over all that time? What did you… I mean… what did you think about it? I had been so worried you'd misunderstand the whole thing, that's why I hadn't mentioned it…"

His next words stunned her – and they showed her how far they had come in their relationship. He looked at her hand in his, then lifted his head so his eyes met hers and said quietly "At first, I was somewhat perplexed… and filled with consternation. And a little hurt – I have to admit that. Then I thought that it doesn't signify – you're wearing my ring, after all, not that other one, and the fact that you had kept it just meant that… that it had some meaning to you… a meaning that I couldn't see at that point, but well.. that I might understand with time. And I decided to wait and see what it was all about. I kind of thought you'd tell me… I trusted you'd explain eventually. And when you didn't, I thought you might not feel the time was there yet, and I kept waiting. I mean… Camille, we have talked about trust before – and I decided I just have to trust you the way you've always trusted me. So… that's what I did."

Her eyes filled with tears as she said "Oh, Richard… and I never said anything because I was afraid you'd be upset and hurt, and you'd perhaps misunderstand… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry, I should have known… I just didn't want to cause you any pain… I was so clueless about what to do with that darn ring… I didn't want to wear it… and I didn't want to really keep it, either, but by the same token, I couldn't just chuck it out, that would have seemed heartless, and after all, I appreciated the sentiment, but not enough to acknowledge it by wearing the ring… so obviously… – oh dear… what a mess I've made of it all!"

She tried to find a tissue in the pocket of her trousers, but to no avail. Richard fished for his handkerchief and leant over to wipe off the tears that had started to fall. "Hey, darling… Don't cry," he said with a soothing voice. "It's all good. You haven't made a mess of it… I know you didn't say anything because you didn't want to upset me. Come on…"

He raised and pulled her up. She sniffed and came into his arms again. He gently stroked her hair and whispered "I know… you thought I'd blow up and make a big riot. Well, I might have done that three or four years ago. I would have thought you had manipulated or used me or whatever. But not so any more. I've learnt to trust. After all we've been through, and after you've given up your life here for being with me, I just know you're not going to let me down, and if you withhold anything from me, it's not because you want to cheat or lie – it is because you don't want me to get hurt. I know that."

She looked in his eyes and said "I thought you'd be cross because I'd kept that token of friendship, despite all the obstacles that Humphrey has thrown in my way to make me stay. I haven't forgotten that, Richard, but he did it because he believed he loved me… and – oh, I can't explain it any better."

"Well, you don't have to. It's alright. And the compass ring is gone now. You don't have to worry about it any more. Isn't that good? Think about it from this side – he needs it more than you do. He will not wear it, but looking at it might help him focus on what he wants in life. After all, he doesn't know which direction to take – and perhaps the ring will help him think and find his way."

Camille seemed to find comfort in that idea, and he silently congratulated himself for not saying the wrong thing. He was getting better at all that! But as far as he was concerned… In all honesty, he didn't really care much about whether or not Humphrey Goodman found his way as long as he'd leave them alone.

But he understood that Camille cared for him, and if it was important to her, he wouldn't argue about it. He was just glad that this was out of the way now. He had understood that the whole thing had been bugging her, and consequently, it had been bugging him as well. So, it truly was a relief to have the issue resolved.

Relief was the predominant feeling that Camille perceived, too. Relief that she had returned the compass ring to Humphrey, relief that her secretiveness hadn't caused a rift between her and Richard, relief that it was finally over. Now she could focus on what was next – New Year's Eve and the forthcoming church blessing, and after that, they'd have a few more days in paradise before returning to the European winter.

Somehow that sounded good. They'd have fun here, and then… She was suddenly looking forward to homely evenings on their sofa in Richard's little house, to afternoons in Parisian cafés, to daytrips to museums, to lazy mornings in bed, to life back in Europe…

Happily, she took Richard's hand, and they continued their walk along the beach until they had reached the patch where their hotel had its beach bar. Richard asked "Care to get some drinks?", and she nodded and went to order a glass of juice for herself and a beer for him.

When she came back, he bent over and said morosely "Mind you, I had completely forgotten how much sand you have on this godforsaken island. Currently it feels like literally all of it is in my shoes." And with that, he took them off and gingerly moved over the sand to the wooden patio, in his own specific gait that Camille had observed so often during his stay on the island when he had had to walk in the sand, but that disappeared completely as soon as he had solid ground under his feet. It made her smile.

As they sat down at one of the tables, she let out a big sigh and then suddenly laughed. She saw his inquiring eyes and laughed even harder.

"What is it? Are you laughing at me?" he asked slightly suspiciously. Still laughing, she shook her head and said "No, no – not at you. It's just… You should have seen the look on his face when I suggested to picture himself with me in a basement flat in Wolverhampton – or Hull - with the rain pouring down… that was priceless. The harried glance said it all. And then I thought of what you had said about Scooby-Doo, and I almost burst into laughter, thinking of how Shaggy and Scooby-Doo always are the first ones to run away… I swear, that was hilarious, and I was so worried he'd notice I was laughing inside…"

Richard couldn't help but laugh, too… and so Margaret and Robert found their son (amazingly: sans shoes) and daughter-in-law (sans shoes, too, but that was less amazing) sitting merrily at a table at the beach bar, giggling away about something mysterious they couldn't (or rather didn't want to) explain…


	10. The End of the Year

Chapter 10 - The End of the Year

Now that the compass ring was literally out of the way, Camille felt more at ease – and she realised that it had bugged her more than she had wanted to admit even to herself. It amazed her to think that Richard had known about it for so long, and yet he hadn't said anything. He hadn't sulked, given her the silent treatment or made innuendos, he had just kept quiet and trusted her to come out with the issue when the time was right for her. Considering all the reservations he had regarding Humphrey, this was rather remarkable.

Camille knew that he had felt uneasy about Humphrey's affection for her, and she really couldn't blame him – she was sure that it had been hard for him to be so far away from her, being fully aware of the fragility of their still new relationship and knowing that she'd be exposed to her boss's advances. She knew that he hadn't mistrusted her – but she also knew that he tended to worry, so even if there hadn't been mistrust, there had been worries…

She was just glad that Humphrey had been somewhat sensible and rational when she had come to talk to him. It had been painful for him, she knew that, and he had told her a little about his father's visit and the doubts that had beset him. She had listened and given him some advice that he'd hopefully consider – to her, it seemed unreasonable to carry on as if nothing had happened, so she had pointed out that he hadn't really taken a holiday in a long time and that he might want to think about taking time off and going somewhere else where nobody knew him so he would have the chance to sort out his issues – and look for help, if necessary.

They had parted in friendship. He hadn't been offended when she had returned the compass ring to him – she had half expected he would be upset, but no...

He had just smiled sadly and said ruefully "I've made a mess of this, haven't I…", and she had responded softly "No, you didn't. You showed your feelings. You couldn't know that I was otherwise engaged. Nobody had told you, and you hadn't wanted to see the signs. There's nothing wrong with showing feelings. And you know, I've said it before – you are an inspiration. You have never given up, although you have fallen down more than once. It's not about how often you fall down, Humphrey. It's about always getting up again afterwards – and you've never failed to do that, no matter how hard it was. And I find that admirable. But you must learn how to deal with things in a healthier way – you know, shoving issues away and trying to ignore them doesn't work – they always come back. You're so kind to others – be kind to yourself, too! Take the time to sort out what has been bothering you. You don't want to live your life in a blur, do you – you want to feel good about yourself, not hide away from your issues all the time… Taking care of yourself doesn't mean you're selfish. And look, the compass ring has brought me to my destination, after all. I've found happiness with Richard, and I'm here now to give you the ring so you will find happiness, too."

She had lightly touched his arm, and he had pulled himself together and smiled. Then after a moment, he had asked "So, do you still want me to come to your church blessing then?" "Of course," she had responded. "We'll be happy to see you there and have you joining us for the reception later on. We'll let you know about the details – we'll have to organise everything over the next few days, but you'll hear from us in time."

With that, she had left the station and returned to La Kaz. She hadn't turned around to see Humphrey standing at the balustrade and following her with his eyes. When she had turned the corner and he couldn't see her any more, he had heaved a big sigh and returned to his desk.

She was right, he needed time away from it all. He had reached a critical point. His father's visit and all the questions it had raised had given him the rest. With Camille's help, he had realised that he had never really taken the time to acknowledge his feelings. He had just carried on, never admitting that there could be a problem. No, he had been doing 'just fine' – and then he had numbed the pain by working too hard and drinking too much. It had become second nature for him – but Camille was right, it wasn't healthy. He'd have to do something about it…

With a swift movement, he had pulled the keyboard of his computer closer, opened his e-mail programme and started composing a message.

New Year's Eve was approaching with big steps… Catherine couldn't possibly close the bar again for a private party, but she invited everyone to come and celebrate at La Kaz. It was one of the busiest days of the year for her – only Carnival was more popular for the tourists, and they came in flocks.

The locals also loved the more regional festivals, like the one for Erzulie and a few others.

Much to the tourists' surprise, Halloween was no big deal on Saint Marie. It had no real tradition on the island, and although the bars run by British owners usually geared up for the day, it had never really reached the same popularity. People on Saint Marie rather focused on All Saints' Day – during the days before, families started cleaning the graves of their loved ones so they were clean and shiny for All Saints' Day, and in the evening of the day they celebrated - it was the occasion to gather with relatives and to recall good memories. But it was decidedly different from any Halloween traditions that were known in other parts of the world.

New Year's Eve traditionally wasn't a big deal, either – neither the French nor the Brits traditionally had fireworks or other spectacular displays. But popular demand had slowly changed this here on Saint Marie, and while there still were no fireworks, there were street parties, the clubs offered special galas, and of course, hotels and restaurants had their own New Year's Eve events. The local bars obviously were very busy, too, and so Catherine and Camille were hard at work, decorating the bar accordingly with streamers, glittering garlands and the like.

Richard had taken his parents to the little museum about the legendary pirate that supposedly had lived on Saint Marie several centuries ago. It had been expanded and now focused on pirates and their history in the Caribbean in general. Robert had thought it was all rubbish, but he had been amused nonetheless, and Margaret had quite enjoyed the visit – she had had a good time looking at the pistols, the maps and the historical costumes on display. A few kids who had been around had got into talking to her, and she had had fun explaining them some of the items in the showcases. Their parents mostly had been grateful and pleased to get a break from all the questions…

Richard had remembered their occasional visits at museums during his childhood… There hadn't been many, but they had made a few trips to archaeological sites, science museums and historical houses, maintained by the National Trust. It had always been so much more fun to go to places like that with his mother (and his father… who usually had kept in the background then) than with school. Richard had been a bookish, solitary boy, and while he had been interested in the actual exhibits, his classmates usually just had focused on playing pranks or causing a ruckus… He hadn't been a happy boy at school. He had always taken everything to heart and suffered quite a bit…

Oh well. It was good that this was history.

For lunch, they returned to La Kaz, and Catherine served a stew that she had cooked the night before and heated up now. It wasn't goat this time – but lamb. The spices and other ingredients were the same like when she made goat stew, though.

They all sat down together and ate with good appetite. Catherine nudged Camille and said "I can't believe he's eating this – what have you done to him?"

Richard looked up from his plate and said straight-faced "She didn't stop serving all sorts of exotic dishes, and I had to go to bed without dinner if I refused to eat it, so… you see, I have learnt it's easier to obey in some cases, and though I hate to admit it, I actually like most of the food that Camille comes up with. Though I still don't like chicken soup, I have to confess…"

Catherine stopped short for a moment, then she began to laugh. "Well, at least you're honest," she admitted. "I was so furious about your lack of gratitude back then, but I think you just were too miserable to really understand and appreciate what I did for you."

Richard thought that nothing in the world would have made him appreciate the chicken soup – but he kept that to himself. He didn't want to spoil the still a little 'new' relationship with his mother-in-law. He did like Catherine, her tea was perfect, and he was grateful for all the support she had given Camille – but she still was a little uncanny at times.

Well, never mind – they got along well enough, and as far as he was concerned, he had heard so much about horrible mothers-in-law that he was happy that Catherine was fairly relaxed and not too much into meddling. Her speech at the welcome party had really touched him, and he was ready to forgive her for the chicken soup by now.

Margaret mentioned that Richard's eating habits surely were shaped by all the years of boarding school. "You know how commercial kitchens or places like boarding schools, canteens and so on often serve rather bland food? You kind of forget that there are spices other than pepper and salt when you eat in those places for an extended period of time!"

Catherine admitted that she had never taken that into consideration, and she began to look at Richard's particular "food quirks" with different eyes. He had become a lot better, though – three years ago he wouldn't even have touched her stew at all, regardless of what sort of meat she had chosen, and she had also noticed that he had eaten most of the finger food she had served at their welcome party, so obviously he had indeed learnt that it was worth trying different things every once in a while.

Camille had said as much during phone conversations and given Catherine the thumbs up when she had suggested to prepare her version of 'tapas'… initially, she had been a little doubtful, but really, Camille had been right. Little by little, she was using her influence on him to make things easier for both of them – for him because he wasn't such an outcast any longer, and for herself because she didn't have to limit herself with cooking…

Obviously, though, she had also adapted to his eating habits – life was about making compromises, wasn't it… and so jelly babies, tea, and shortbread were staples in her kitchen now, too… and Margaret had taught her how to make roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. After a couple of failed attempts, she had become fairly proficient, and even Richard had said that she had become 'rather practiced' – which was a huge compliment, as she knew. They enjoyed cooking together – something Camille would never have imagined...

Eventually, the conversation turned to the forthcoming evening, and they agreed on coming to La Kaz at around 9.30 to celebrate a little and see in the new year. Margaret and Robert said they weren't sure if they could make it – they had realised that evenings at La Kaz could become very turbulent, and they felt they might need something more quiet. There was a little 'do' in the hotel as well, so they might go to the bar there and spend the evening with another couple around their age from the US that they had become friendly with. Richard was happy that his parents had found good company to spend their time with so they didn't have to rely on Camille and him for everything.

As they were on their way to La Kaz after dinner (without Margaret and Robert – they had indeed decided to stay at the hotel), Camille said "I think we'll see Fidel and Juliet again tonight, but I have no idea about the others… I really hope they'll all be there so we can tell them about the blessing. It would be so cumbersome to send texts or e-mails or make phone calls…"

She needn't have worried. They all were there.

JP had offered to help her mother a little with the bar, so he was busy mixing cocktails when Camille and Richard showed up. Florence was sitting at the bar, admiring his skills and asking him if he could show her some of his tricks some time. He nodded and pulled a funny face as he was singing along to the tune in the background, and Florence laughed at his goofy expression and the jokes he cracked. He had become a little more confident over the past few days, and their friendship did both of them good. It wasn't anything beyond that, but it felt good to have someone to talk to without having to explain too much. Someone who was her age and who could relate to her background. Someone who was not her superior, but who moved on the same level – more or less.

She was happy – she had got over the disappointing evening the other day… Humphrey had been an idiot, but that was his problem, not hers. She had decided that it was best if they remained friends and she'd stop interpreting too much into his actions. Humphrey's weird behaviour before and during the welcome party for Camille and Richard had made her come to the conclusion that he didn't know what he wanted, and that he needed time. And she needed time as well – and she wanted to do more things without him. She'd keep socialising with the team, but she'd also take better care again of her other friendships outside work. She had friends on the island that she hadn't seen in ages because she had neglected them for the sake of socialising with the team.

And then - whatever would be, would be – but she wouldn't push it. She was not into making new year resolutions, but this time she had decided to come up with a motto for the next year… and it was "Enjoy life and be kind, but don't make other people's problems your own."

Dwayne had already danced with half of the women present at La Kaz – including Juliet. She and Fidel had showed up shortly after him, and he had pulled her into a conga line rightaway. Fidel was leaning on a railing post, sipping his beer. His face lit up when he saw Camille and Richard. They tried to talk a little, but the music was too loud. Catherine waved from the background and pointed to the patio that was a little away from the main ruckus, so they all went there and sat down at one of the tables. It wasn't really quiet there, either, but at least they could talk without having to shout at one another.

Florence joined them, and eventually Juliet and Dwayne came, too – with Humphrey in tow who had just appeared on the scene. He seemed completely relaxed and behaved as if nothing ever had happened… but when Catherine came to ask him what he'd like to drink, he asked for a cocktail without alcohol. Nobody commented on it. Catherine turned around and asked the others what they wanted to have, and Camille said quickly "I'll take whatever you'll mix for Humphrey!" She wanted to show that she supported his decision… and before Richard could say anything, she turned around and said "Wouldn't you like to try that, too, Richard?"

He saw the pleading look in her eyes and understood what she was trying to express. Without hesitating, he nodded and said "Come on, Catherine, one for me as well. And this round will go on me, so…"

Much to Richard's relief, the cocktail turned out to be okay. He had worried a little that it might be too sweet – it was bright red and looked slightly scary. But it was fine, and he was happy with it. Thanks to all the juices that Camille had made him try over the past half year, he had got used to all kinds of fruity stuff, and much to his surprise, he actually quite liked some flavours. A little regretfully, he had said to Camille "Mind you… I feel like such a fool. I've missed out on so much just because I stuck to what I knew…" Camille had laughed and said "Oh, don't fret, darling – fortunately, it's not too late yet… you've got plenty of time to try out new stuff."

So, his life recently had been full of small changes here and there… he had started to try different things and gone new routes – literally… he had taken to varying his way to work a little by not always taking the same streets, or by sometimes walking on the other side of his 'usual' street –, and food was obviously only one of the things he had become a little more adventurous about. He knew it was nothing compared to what others did, but for him, these small steps were actually big leaps. At least sometimes…

It was a very relaxed evening. JP – who took a little break from the bar – joined their group, and before too long, they were all sitting around the table, and there was a lot of chatting, bantering and joking.

Camille and Richard gave everyone the details for the blessing ceremony and repeated their invitation. They had approached the owners of their hotel, and luckily, they could have the patio on the beach for their reception. The owners had said that January 2nd usually was a fairly quiet day for them, so they'd happily let them have the patio and cater for them. Since Camille and Richard were happy with what they could offer them, there was no further discussion – they didn't have any extra wishes outside the regular menu, so everything was settled very quickly.

Catherine had suggested to host the reception at La Kaz, but Camille had insisted that she wanted her mother to be a guest on this occasion – not the one who had all the work. So, Catherine just would close down the bar for the day – for her, it usually was a quiet day as well, so she wouldn't lose too much – and they'd all celebrate at the hotel's beach bar.

After that topic had been discussed extensively, Florence asked Richard about the Crime Academy and what kind of courses they offered, and he gave her a quick overview, pointing out that if she ever wanted to sign up for a class, she'd have to do so quickly because places were limited, and Camille encouraged her to give it a try some time.

When Florence hesitantly mentioned that she wouldn't know where to stay, Camille mentioned the guest house that the Met ran and said she was sure that she'd get accommodation there if she contacted them in time. And if worst came to worst, she could always ask Liz Andrews if she could help out.

Florence had never been to the UK, and she had actually never thought about going. Her eyes began to sparkle when she thought about it… London… that sounded wonderful! She was sure she'd love it there…

Humphrey watched her, and he was feeling a little sad. She seemed so eager to go. Apparently, he was really good at driving people away. Sally had left him and filed for divorce. Some time after that, Fidel had left the team for the new job on St. Lucia, and half a year later, Camille had jumped ship…

But then Florence said something that made him smile…. She turned to JP and said "Just imagine all the fun I'd have winding you up when I'd return, wised up and knowledgeable. And the team would profit so much from all the new stuff!"

JP then asked what he – Humphrey – didn't dare to ask at this point. "You would come back, wouldn't you?" he inquired anxiously. Florence laughed and said "Sure – why would I want to leave forever? Saint Marie is a great place, and our team is the best – I don't want to work anywhere else!"

The conversation then turned to hopes, dreams and plans for the new year. Dwayne said he didn't believe in making new year resolutions as they'd fail, anyway, and plans – well, you could make an awful lot of plans, but you never knew what happened, anyway, so where was the point…

JP said he was happy with how things were going and grateful for what the past year had brought him, so he only wished for everything to continue in the same way.

Fidel and Juliet exchanged a brief glance and said they hoped for a brother or sister for Rosie, but if it didn't happen, then they'd be happy with their little family the way it was, and Juliet added that she hoped her parents would manage to visit them on St. Lucia some time – so far that hadn't materialised.

Florence said she wasn't sure… but a trip to the UK and participating in a Crime Academy class sounded tempting.

Richard looked at Camille and said "Well, I agree with Dwayne that you might make an awful lot of plans but then things happen, anyway… but I just hope that the new year will bring more good things than not so good ones. Other than that, I'm just grateful to be alive – with everything that this encompasses!"

Camille smiled at him, lovingly. "I think I agree with you on that, Richard. Oh, but I wish for a trip to Clacton next year, if we can make it!"

There was a twinkle in her eyes, and he chuckled. The others were a bit taken aback, but since neither offered an explanation, they figured it was a private joke and didn't dig any deeper.

Everybody looked at Humphrey now, and JP asked "And you, sir? What are your hopes, plans and dreams for the next year?"

Humphrey smiled enigmatically and said vaguely "Oh, I have so many of them – it would be hard to count them all out…"

Then a tune began to play, and before anybody could ask more questions, he exclaimed "Oh, listen – they're playing 'Auld lang syne' – so I guess midnight is there! I'll get drinks so we can toast to the new year, okay?"

With that, he got up and strode off to the bar…


	11. Conversations, Observations, Celebration

Chapter 11 – Conversations, Observations, Celebrations

It was almost half past one in the morning when Richard and Camille finally left La Kaz. They had not taken the car, so they had to walk – but although it wasn't all that close, they didn't mind. They kissed Catherine goodbye, waved to everyone else and set off… there was no need for a long-winded farewell as they'd see them all again in two days for the blessing.

Neither of them noticed Humphrey's gaze – he was holding his final cocktail and watching them as they walked away, hand in hand.

It had been an eye-opening experience for him to see them interact tonight.

Camille was still mercurial, but her temperament had mellowed a little, and although she teased Richard, there never was any serious impatience or annoyance in her behaviour. And she had decidedly left island life behind – although she wore the same clothes, there was a certain air about her – more sophisticated, more self-confident… No, self-confident wasn't the right word, maybe 'settled' was better. Yes, that was a much more suitable word.

What he really meant, though, was that she wasn't restless any more. He had never realised how restless she had been – most likely because he had not known her any other way. She had always been a happy, compassionate and positive person, but now she was glowing with love and contentment. She had found what she needed.

And while Richard generally was quite lenient towards her, he sometimes got almost sarcastic – much to Humphrey's surprise, she just shrugged it off and retorted something appropriate – and then they both laughed together. It was like a ritual between them. He had clearly seen how much the two of them were in love, and although it hurt in a way, he could see now that Camille had been right – there had never been anything like this between her and him.

In hindsight, he realised it… He should have noticed earlier. But he had been blinded by his own wishes and projections… He was glad that Camille had come to see him that afternoon. He knew now what he had to do, and it gave him peace.

Tonight, he had been clearer in his head, more focused than during the welcome party, and while Richard still definitely wasn't on top of his list of people that he'd like to take along if he got stranded in the middle of nowhere, he could understand a little better now why everyone respected and maybe even liked him.

He seemed slightly peculiar to the extent of being eccentric, and there was a certain reservedness about him – despite his obvious attempts at not coming across as too uptight -, but he had principles, he was a no-nonsense type, he was reliable, and he was resourceful. Those were all very admirable qualities. And tonight he had made an effort to talk to Humphrey. Besides other things, they had briefly discussed the lack of ballistics and forensics on Saint Marie, and Richard had described some of the experiments that he had tried to find further evidence in cases. Humphrey had been fairly impressed and felt a little inferior.

Much to his delight, Florence had chimed in and pointed out that Inspector Goodman was very good in solving seemingly hopeless cases, and everyone had agreed… That had made him very happy.

Then Dwayne had said to Richard "Mind you, Chief, when you were – er – gone we had the jitters because we didn't know who would come next. But really, we were lucky because Chief Goodman is just – er – you know… a genius, like you, and the solving rate didn't go down, so… what do you think, Fidel?"

Fidel had nodded and said "Right, Dwayne, and just imagine we would have got that… what's her name? The sergeant who stepped in when the Chief was ill and Camille was in France?"

"Angela… Young or something? Oh Lord, that was such a meanie…" Dwayne snorted. "Kept calling you 'Freddie', I think."

Fidel said "That's right. She was completely clueless, that was the main problem. I think I could have lived with her calling me 'Freddie' – if only she had had any idea about the case… she was such a waste of space! Plus my head was spinning when she talked – she never took the time to breathe, as it seemed… And she was so rude – didn't she say something like 'That's why I am the DS and you're not'?" He imitated DS Young's tartly way of speaking almost to a T.

Dwayne's disgusted face said it all. "Yeah… she said that. Really snotty. And then the Chief put her straight and said 'That's why I'm the DI and you're not' when he had solved the case… That was so funny… My word, Chief, you came across awfully stuck-up that day… but it served her right… she was so hen-witted and yet thought she knew it all!"

Camille interjected "Or we could have got this… er… Richard, what was the name of the guy involved in the Nadia Selim case?" "Ricketts," Richard said, "Chris Ricketts… Oh dear. He hated the Caribbean even more than I did at that point, so you wouldn't have had much fun with him. Probably even less than you had with me… But he already was DCI back then, as far as I recall, so they wouldn't have assigned him."

He chuckled at the memory of himself, Camille and Ricketts sitting together in a bar and Ricketts being clearly unhappy with the heat and the humidity. It had made him – Richard – feel better because there was someone around who was even unhappier than himself… not a very noble feeling, admittedly, but well… you couldn't be noble all the time…

He had noticed how Humphrey had relaxed when they had started talking about people who were clearly incapable – it had obviously cheered him up to hear everyone singing his praises. Well, Richard couldn't blame him – it was indeed nice when people appreciated you. He knew that only too well.

On the way home, Camille said "Thank you, Richard…" and kissed his cheek. "What's that for?" he asked. "For being so patient with Humphrey tonight. I know, he hasn't recommended himself at the welcome party, but he really tried to make amends tonight. I'm happy that you didn't rebuff him – his confidence has got a series of dampers recently, so I'm glad you didn't add to his misery…"

Richard shrugged and said "He's alright. I wouldn't want to work with him – his disjointed way of jumping from one thing to the next kind of gets on my nerves, and he's terribly vague - but that's not on the agenda, anyway, so I don't care. He clearly is a disorganised klutz, but who am I to judge that… He was nice enough this evening and definitely made an effort to behave more appropriately, and I guess your recent conversation also made a difference. Plus, he didn't wear his Shaggy attire tonight – he was dressed much more properly."

Humphrey had worn a plain off-white shirt and black trousers, along with his blue linen jacket, and Richard had noticed that the shirt even might have seen an iron some time ago.

"You know," Camille said now, "when we talked about all the horrible people we might have ended up with after your departure, I couldn't help but think how lucky we've been with Humphrey – he has his weird habits, and he has made things difficult for me at times, but he's not mean. In that context, I thought of your ex-colleague – Anderson – and what if we had ended up with someone like him."

They walked on in silence for a few minutes. Richard remembered how kind Camille had been when Anderson had showed up at the station, trying to intimidate and belittle him, his former colleague. He had called him 'Dickie-boy' – how humiliating that had been.

And Camille had listened to him when he had described how he had always been the fool in the corner… and cheered him up again by listing all his annoying features and then saying "… but you've never been a fool!" That had been funny, and he had felt better.

This had been not so long after her friend Aimee had been killed – her death had been devastating for Camille… But as sad as it had been - the fact that he and the team had made every effort to solve the case quickly and find the killer had brought them closer together. It had been the first time he had seen Camille crying openly, again and again, and he had been desperate because he hadn't known how to comfort her. It was hard to believe that it had happened only about two and a half years ago… it seemed like a lifetime away now.

As they arrived at their hotel and entered their little bungalow, Camille said softly "Mind you, Richard, do you happen to remember how we spent New Year's Eve last time…" He smiled and said "How could I not remember! As it is… I don't know about you, but I wouldn't mind – er… Provided you're not too exhausted, I mean…"

Camille put her arms around his neck, smiled tenderly and whispered "I'm never too exhausted for that, Richard…" She didn't get any further – he picked her up and carried her to the bed, and after that, she didn't feel like talking much any more.

New Year's Day was quiet – they took the car and showed Margaret and Robert some of the most outstanding sights, went for a long walk together while Richard's parents took a much-deserved siesta and met up with them later for a sundowner at the bar.

They weren't nervous about the blessing the next day. They had sorted out all the details with the priests, it would only be a rather short ceremony, anyway, and as Camille said, they were already married, so why worry…

Margaret asked if Catherine was very disappointed that there wasn't a fancy church wedding. She would have liked a traditional English wedding ceremony for them, but she could understand why Richard and Camille had decided otherwise. And after all, it was their life, they had to decide what was right for them.

Camille wrinkled her nose and said "I think she always had that dream about me having a white wedding with all the frills and trimmings. Maybe also because she didn't have that. But she knows me – I've never really been interested in all the fancy stuff that comes with weddings like that. I mean, who wants to spend a fortune on a dress you wear only once and that makes you look like you're dressed in a cake doily? Nothing wrong with it if that's what you like, of course. But.. well, it may sound unsentimental, but I'd rather save the money for something else. Like a trip. Or a house. Or a huge party with friends – imagine all the delicious food and wine you can buy for the money you'd spend on a wedding dress! Getting married isn't a show I'd set up for others – it's about the promise that's made…"

She looked over to Richard and added "And we all know how much Richard dislikes to be the centre of attention… so I figure this is the best way to handle it. It's still all very respectable and correct - he likes things to be in order - but the blessing will be a lot more relaxed than an actual wedding ceremony, and there's not so much you can get worried and confused about."

Richard gave her a half smile and asked "So you agreed to my suggestion because you wanted to save me from being confused?" She grinned impishly and then said in the most demure manner she could muster up "Well, of course! Anything for you, my darling!"

Margaret couldn't help but smile about their exchange. Camille really knew how to take Richard… And of course, she was right – Richard didn't like being in the focus, unless it was for professional reasons. Exposing him to the eyes of everyone as he'd stand by the altar, waiting for Camille – that would have been cruel. He would have done it if she had wished him to, but it would have cost him some nerves. For the blessing, he wouldn't have to do that – Camille and he would enter the church together and walk down the aisle as a couple.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Camille saying "And you know, all that humbug about 'giving the bride away'… Come on, I'm not anybody's property that gets passed on from one person to the other… Not to mention that my father isn't around, anyway, nor does he have any 'power' over me. Maman could take his role there, but we both know that I don't fancy all that stuff, so where's the point…"

Robert and Margaret exchanged a surprised glance. They had never looked at it that way – they had always accepted it as the given thing and never thought about the tradition and how differently it might be interpreted by others.

Margaret looked at her son who was idly watching a young man on the beach, throwing pebbles into the ocean while his girlfriend – or whoever she was – was busy talking – or rather gushing! - on the phone. Fragments of words were in the air, and he could distinguish 'dress', 'sweet', 'shopping', 'awesome' and a few other words. The young man's movements showed his frustration, and Richard felt for him – what a waste of time to sit on the beach with someone you loved and not being acknowledged at all…

He remembered how he had sat on the beach with Camille sometimes during the two years of his assignment… Usually, he had taken out a chair because he didn't like the sand, sometimes they had sat on a log of driftwood (he had usually sat on his handkerchief to protect his trousers from getting stained), and once he had plopped down on the sand beside her… but no matter what, he had always focused on her, and they had communicated with one another.

There had been a lot of teasing and bickering, but also much warmth and affection - and he wondered now when he first had noticed how much he loved that. How much he loved her, actually… He could have caught her back then when she had run down the beach after having changed his TV channels… easily… and he had been tempted, but then he had been too afraid to do it… How silly that seemed now…

"Richard, are you listening at all?" His mother's gentle voice brought him back to reality, and he said "Erm… no, to be honest, I'm not. Sorry. What is it?" Margaret repeated her question. "I was asking if you have ever wondered about the tradition of 'giving the bride away' being chauvinistic… well, that's not what Camille said, but it's pretty much what her attitude implies…"

Richard took a sip of his drink, arched his eyebrows and said "Oh, I don't know… One has to see the tradition on the background of its origin, though, and back then, the fathers indeed 'gave' their daughter away – they weren't responsible for them any more, and the husband took over the responsibility. Of course, that's different now, so one might indeed question the whole thing. Having said that, I haven't been to a lot of weddings, but the ones I've been to all followed the same pattern, and it seemed that the brides – who were perfectly sensible and pragmatic women in their everyday life – suddenly turned into gushing princesses who wanted to be treated like little lambs… and I can't see that Camille would be that way… so, I see her point… Whatever. We have decided to do things our way, and so it's pointless to dwell on what's not going to happen."

That was a surprisingly long and almost 'progressive' speech, but Camille already knew that Richard had his own view on things… he wanted to do things the right way, but there were some aspects he just wouldn't back down to. She remembered how surprised she had been when he had said he found the concept of blind dates 'utterly medieval' – and it would be like buying a pig in a poke. She had thought that most people would find it exciting to meet someone new and interesting – but then again, she had met a lot of new men, but none of them had really been all that interesting. So, she had reluctantly admitted to herself that maybe he had been right after all…

In any case, she had learnt that the seemingly conservative and traditional Richard Poole had some surprisingly "newfangled" ideas – considering his usual notions that tended to be very much "by-the-book" and conventional. He had sometimes uttered totally unexpected things, and as predictable as he usually was – he had facettes that were simply astounding.

"Are you ready, Camille?" Richard sat on the bed, wearing the only suit he had taken along to Saint Marie. It was lighter than his woollen suits, but it still looked formal and very elegant. It was a three-piece again, similar to the one he had worn for the civil ceremony in Paris. He had realised that he quite liked waistcoats – and Camille had confirmed that he looked splendid in them, so he hadn't hesitated to buy this suit when he had seen it. He wore a light white shirt with it and a sage green tie that brought out the sparkle in his eyes.

Camille had teased him by suggesting in jest that he should wear a white suit and a pink shirt with frilly ruffles – the kind you saw on tacky pictures featuring weddings in the tropics. "Yeah right," he had said sardonically, shoving a hand into his hair, "and along with that, I'll go for an afro hairdo, huh? Want me to get a perm, I guess? Dream on, Camille…" Then she had put forward to just dance around a fire, stark-naked. They remembered how annoyed he had been at the very mentioning of the word 'voodoo' – and had laughed together at the idea.

But eventually, he had come back to "I'll stick to my dark suit… but seriously, what are you going to wear?"

She had shown him a dress that she had bought in Paris right after her arrival, but never worn so far, and he had approved – and purchased a matching tie.

Just after he had started to wonder if he should maybe stretch out on the bed and take a nap, the bathroom door opened, and Camille came out. He inhaled sharply at the sight of her… the sage green dress with the cream coloured trimmings looked fabulous. It was a simple, yet extremely elegant dress. The cream coloured court shoes and a matching handbag completed her attire, and she had styled her hair in an innocent looking girly do, with cream coloured barrettes holding her curls right above the ears so her face was free and open. Its playfulness was a perfect contrast to the rather unostentatious, yet refined dress. She wore a pearl necklace and matching earrings, the rings on her hand sparkled.

She looked fantastic, and Richard said "Wow. If we weren't already married, I'd fall on my knees and ask you rightaway… You look amazing, Camille! Are you sure you'll let me come with you? I'm afraid I'll spoil it all…"

She laughed happily, and her eyes shimmered when she said "Oh, no worries, Richard – you're the perfect foil for me!" He chuckled, and she leant down to kiss him. "Careful," she whispered as she felt his arm coming around her, "you don't want to ruin my attire…"

Robert was their chauffeur, and Margaret proudly sat by his side, turning around and glancing at Richard and Camille from time to time. "You both look splendid," she said. And then she added "I can hardly believe this is happening. If you had told me so half a year ago, I wouldn't have believed it."

Richard silently agreed with her, and he knew that Camille's thoughts had also flown back to the day she had left Saint Marie to go on her European adventure… Of course, he had known then that he wanted to marry her, but he hadn't thought it would happen so soon… Well, he didn't complain! The ceremony in Paris had been lovely – private and unpretentious, just what they had wanted… and this blessing would be the icing on the cake. He had known that Camille would want a party, so the blessing had been a good idea – it would give them a festive setting, but at the same time it wouldn't be over the top. He was quite looking forward to the whole thing now.

Half an hour later, the service and the blessing were over, and Camille and Richard came out of the church again. Everything had gone according to plan – the priests had done a nice job, and Richard and Camille hadn't missed their respective cues… The church had been full – much to their surprise… they had only told the Commissioner and the team that they were having this ceremony.

But the news had spread quickly, and so – among others - they had spotted Carlton Banks and a few others who worked at the Jacaranda Clinic, the doctors and nurses who had looked after Richard during his stay in the Honoré hospital, several of the local storekeepers and owners of stalls on the market… and even Sister Marguerite had showed up!

Everyone had come to congratulate them and toast to their future – the hotel's owner had brought champagne, and a waiter and two waitresses had served it to the people leaving the church. So, it had taken them a while to get into their car again and go back to the hotel where the reception was held.

Robert drove slowly through the crowd. "I thought you said you didn't have many friends here," he said with raised eyebrows.

Richard said "I guess they all came for Camille…" He was totally taken aback by the masses of people.

Camille smiled and said "Yes, of course. Particularly the doctors and the nurses… I'm sure they came to see if you were in your right mind to get married to that banshee of a sergeant who kept pestering them about your condition and the progress you were making… Seriously, Richard, don't be such an idiot. They came because of you just as much as they came to see me."

He tried to hide how touched he was because so many people had attended their ceremony. Had they really come because of him, too? After all the time he'd been away? He found that hard to believe.

In an attempt to come up with one of his quips, he turned to her and said "Oh, I don't know. I'm not much to look at. Come to think of it… Maybe I should have given them something to gawp and worn the afro look after all?"

Camille punched him, Richard cried "Ouch - that hurt! Dad – tell her she can't punch her husband!", Robert laughed, and Margaret said soothingly "Come on, kids, don't fight…"


	12. All's well that ends well

Chapter 12 - All's well that ends well

The celebration was in full swing, people congratulated the freshly blessed couple, and everybody was having a good time when Richard suddenly heard someone shouting "Yoohoo, Chief, go ahead, you're officially blessed now – so we want to see that smooch!"

Dwayne's voice came from behind the bar where he was mixing cocktails together with the hotel's bartender. Richard squirmed, and a flush of embarrassment rose to his cheeks. Why, oh why did people have to come up with mortifying things like that? And of course, Dwayne couldn't say things in a more civilised way… He didn't mean to hurt anyone, but his slightly coarse manners sometimes clearly left a lot to be desired.

Camille cast down her eyes and hid her grin – she knew that Dwayne's comment at the welcome party had already unsettled her husband, but this one really made him cringe. As passionate and tender as Richard was in private – he didn't feel comfortable with showing affection in public.

Yes, he was getting better, but even at the wedding ceremony when only his parents and the two officials – the registrar and the translator – had been present, he had just kissed her very lightly. What had followed later on when they had been alone in her flat had been a completely different thing – but that was nobody's business.

Whatever, there was no way around it – they would have to do something to satisfy their guests. So far, they had always been very moderate with displaying their affection, but it was clear that the crowd wanted to see something more 'exciting'.

'Crowd' was of course a very exaggerated notion. All in all, there weren't so many people present, but it added up to 20 persons – everyone who had attended the welcome party had come to the reception as well, plus the Commissioner had brought his wife, Fidel and Juliet had brought their respective parents as Richard knew them from celebrations at Fidel's house during his assignment, Rosie was there, of course, playing with the children of the bartender, and there was the restaurant staff – the waiter and the two waitresses who had also served the champagne by the church. Everyone else had disappeared after the blessing.

Sister Marguerite had turned down their invitation to join them – she had smiled and said that it wouldn't quite be her scene, but she'd be happy to see them some time during the following week, if they could make it to the convent. They had promised to visit her, and she had taken their hands and wished them the best of luck once again before leaving – apparently oblivious to Dwayne's slightly wistful glance as she had walked away.

Richard tried to ignore Dwayne's leer, but well, he knew he couldn't do that forever. When they all were about to sit down at the long table to have their meal, Dwayne repeated his request – in a little less 'earthy' way this time. He obviously had fun teasing Richard – he only knew too well how uncomfortable his former superior felt in his skin when everybody's eyes were on him like that. And indeed, Richard felt more and more pressurised, and he realised how he got almost angry now. For pity's sake, why couldn't they just leave him and Camille alone… He felt increasingly irritated.

Humphrey wondered idly how Richard would get out of this predicament. While he could understand that he wasn't overly keen on the whole situation, he also couldn't help but think that he was only making it more difficult for himself if he tried to find a way out of it. Also, he couldn't quite see what could be so bad about kissing one's wife, particularly if the wife happened to be Camille. Surely, Richard was a little too uptight?

Margaret and Robert looked at each other, slightly worried. They felt for their son – but he would have to do something… anything he'd do to try and avoid the direct approach would just be even more embarrassing.

Richard had come to the same conclusion like his parents and Camille – and his anger was getting the better of him. He knew he couldn't run away – none of his usual coping strategies would work. So, without thinking any further, he turned to Camille, made her get up again with him, and before she – or anybody else – knew what was going on, he grabbed her shoulders, fiercely pulled her towards him and closed the gap… with a kiss that – perhaps due to his suppressed anger - was much more passionate, almost desperate in its fervour, than Camille could have expected. Surprised, she reacted instinctively, wrapped her arms around him, closed her eyes and responded warmly to his kiss. They both drowned out the surprised giggles and gasps, and when the kiss ended and Richard released her, she stood there for a moment, completely stunned.

Richard's face was flushed, and those who knew him a little better could tell that he was anything but calm, but he tried to appear completely unruffled and said nonchalantly, though slightly breathlessly "Well… I hope everyone is satisfied now as there won't be any encores… And now, let's enjoy our meal!"

With that, he got rid of his jacket, sat down again, and swiftly rolled up his sleeves. Camille sank back on her chair, still thunderstruck, now with a little smile on her face.

Nobody spoke, it was completely silent.

A moment later, Dwayne began to applaud – and the other guests joined in after a few seconds. Juliet turned to Fidel and whispered in his ear "Mind you, Camille looks like she's very satisfied," and Fidel grinned. He knew how hard it had been for Richard to jump over his own shadow – and he hadn't been too happy with Dwayne's forwardness. But the Chief had done the right thing – he had nonplussed them all with his unexpected action… and now he pretended that nothing had happened at all. And everyone followed his example – so, very soon, the air was filled with laughter, conversations, raillery and banter, and the incident wasn't mentiond any more.

The food was excellent, and even Catherine had to admit that it had been a good decision to have the reception here – it would have been a lot of work for her to come up with a meal like that for 20 people. Between main course and dessert, she leant back and watched Richard and Camille – her daughter had apparently recovered from the shock of Richard's public kiss... they were chatting away with their respective neighbours, and there was no sign of discomfort or uneasiness. She smiled – that action had been completely unexpected, but at least he had silenced them all, and most likely, nobody would challenge him again.

Humphrey had felt (and followed) the urgent need to close his eyes when Richard had kissed Camille with such passion – he had not seen it coming, and while he had mused a moment ago about what Richard would do, he had not taken this possibility into account… Richard had appeared to be prisoner of his own sense of propriety, and Humphrey had not considered him breaking away from this corset. That he really had done it had been too much for Humphrey.

Seeing Camille being seized and kissed by her husband had been extremely unsettling for him – he had categorised him as uninspiring, sedate and unadventurous – though he had learnt to respect him more on New Year's Eve when they had got into talking… understanding now that Richard was indeed a warm-blooded male was a somewhat disconcerting and unwelcome insight, and seeing Camille's fervent reaction and the blissfully happy expression on her face as she had looked at her husband after that kiss had seriously disturbed him.

The Commissioner had watched Humphrey for a moment and had seen his pain. Yes, it was obvious: The Inspector clearly needed a break from Saint Marie. He was glad that Goodman had realised that. He had already contacted the relevant authorities and asked for a substitute to step in and cover for the Inspector during his forthcoming month of leave. Humphrey hadn't really taken off any significant amount of time during the two years of his service, so it was no surprise that he felt somewhat burnt out. The recent visit of Goodman senior had been the last nail on his coffin, as the saying goes…

Selwyn Patterson had been alarmed by Martin Goodman's request to let his son go and leave for the UK again, and he had not lost any time to let Humphrey know how disappointing it would be if the Inspector took his proverbial hat, packed his belongings and left the island. It had then turned out that the old barrister had acted behind his son's back, and the Commissioner – who was experienced when it came to playing games – had realised that this time, he should better keep out of the drama. Anything he'd say or do would make things just worse, so he had decided to wait until everything had cleared up and hoped Humphrey would approach him then.

He didn't want to lose another brilliant Inspector – Charlie Hulme had been okay, but Richard Poole had been outstanding, and losing him had been a major blow… Humphrey Goodman, though, had turned out to be fabulous, too (though clearly more chaotic than Poole), and it wasn't very likely that Saint Marie would get another genius detective if he left. Camille's departure earlier this year already had been a bit of a disaster – although, of course, he could understand her reasons, and Poole's request to help her getting away from the island had only proved what his wife had predicted a long time ago already – that Camille would not stay after Poole's involuntary leaving.

So, although Florence and JP were good additions to the team, Selwyn Patterson felt that things would go straight downhill if Humphrey Goodman left, so he had agreed to giving him a month off to "sort things out", as he had written in his e-mail. The Commissioner hoped to have a substitute by the end of the month… it would be cumbersome to have a stranger taking over for a while, but alas… there was no way around it. He didn't want his Inspector to go insane, so giving him time off to sort out his life was definitely the lesser evil.

The evening went on, and everyone was merrily chatting away. The whole scenario resembled the welcome party – minus Humphrey getting drunk and falling off his chair – and time passed quickly.

In between drinks, the Commissioner took Richard to one side and asked him more elaborately about the Crime Academy and particularly the courses that were offered there. They had talked about the structure and the organisation of the department during the welcome party, but Richard hadn't said much about the classes offered.

Camille joined the conversation, and when both men paused for a moment, she interjected "Sir, have you considered sending the Honoré team over to London for courses – not all of them at the same time, but one by one?"

He looked at her quizzically, and she explained that Florence was interested, but wasn't sure if she'd get the time off for taking a course at the academy. Selwyn Patterson shot a sideways glance in Florence's direction and said thoughtfully "Ambitious girl, I must say. But then again, she studied for her exams in record time and passed with flying colours – she's got what it takes… "

Pensively, he nodded and said "Right, Camille, that sounds like a good idea. I will think about it. And I figure Hooper would also benefit from getting out of here for a while. I'll have a look at your website and see what's available and approach the team accordingly…"

Camille noticed Humphrey who was standing at the bar, chatting with Dwayne, but throwing glances in her direction. She knew how uncomfortable Richard's and her earlier 'performance' had been for him… she had seen it in his face. Well, she and Richard were married. He'd have to live with it. For a moment, she wondered if she had misread Florence's reasons for trying to find out if she – Camille – was interested in Humphrey when she first had joined the team. Or maybe she hadn't, and things had just shifted somehow during her absence?

The most realistic explanation for Humphrey's emotional chaos, however, was that he didn't know what he wanted and that he had spent so much time trying to please everyone that he had lost himself… and confused people along the way, too.

The Commissioner saw her looking in Humphrey's direction. "You know he asked for a month off?" he asked quietly. Camille shook her head and said "I didn't. But it seems like a good idea… he's been going through a bit of a rough patch lately."

Richard thought to himself that Humphrey had also made others go through rough patches… he still hadn't forgiven him how he had made it so difficult for Camille to take time off and then had almost blocked her way when the possibility for a transfer had come up. Still, he also felt compassion for Humphrey. He knew himself how hard it was to be confused and without a clue of where one was going. He had experienced that several times in his life.

So, he squeezed his wife's hand and asked "Want to talk to him?" She said "No. It's up to him to say something if he wants me to know… " Richard nodded, and the Commissioner raised his eyebrows. He had not been present any more when Humphrey had fallen off his chair, but he had heard rumours, of course…

Camille saw his sceptical glance and hastened to explain "Oh, we had a bit of a chat the day after the party, you know… and we agreed that he'd inform me of any – er - changes…" "Ah," was Selwyn Patterson's ambiguous response. For a moment, it seemed like he wanted to dig deeper, but then he left it at that.

After some hesitating, Humphrey took the plunge, though. He strolled over to Camille, Richard and the Commissioner, greeted them all and then asked "May I have a word, Camille?" Richard had to stifle a grin – that was the way the Commissioner usually greeted people – and mostly it wasn't a good sign. Camille remembered that, too, and shot her husband an amused glance. "Oh, yes, sure," she said, and went away with Humphrey.

Richard knew she'd tell him all afterwards, but he couldn't help himself – he kept an eye on them as much as he could do so without offending the Commissioner who kept making conversation with him.

"So, what did he say?" he asked later as they were on their way to their bungalow. Their little reception had been a full success – everyone had had fun, the food had been good, the hotel staff had been attentive, the drinks had been marvellous… and Humphrey had stayed sober. Richard was particularly grateful for the latter. He wouldn't have wanted a stir at their reception…

The Bests as well as Juliet's parents had left first – it had been well after Rosie's bedtime, and the little girl had already fallen asleep on her grandmother Best's lap. Fidel had apologised, but Richard had said "No problem, Fidel… I'm sure there'll be another opportunity to get together some time next week. We won't leave for another eight days, so – let's just see what we can arrange." Juliet had piped in to say that her parents would like to invite his parents, him and Camille for a barbecue some time, and they had agreed on discussing it on the next day.

Margaret and Robert had retired just a few minutes later, and one after the other, everyone had said goodbye. In the end, only Dwayne had been left. He had come up to Richard, shaken his hand and said "Best of luck again, Chief, and thanks for the party." Then, slightly hesitantly, he had added "I'm sorry if I – er – made you uncomfortable earlier on…"

Camille had grinned, and Richard had said in a slightly lofty tone "Oh, it's okay, Dwayne – no worries. It's all good…"

"Well…," Dwayne had retorted with a smirk, "it seemed to me that you were actually having fun, but still…"

"Oh, go away!" Camille had exclaimed with a laugh, and Dwayne had sauntered off, still grinning.

They had set off to their room, and it was then that Richard asked about Humphrey. Camille said "Oh, he told me that he will take off a month. He'll go to Jamaica for two weeks where he has a friend he's known since primary school. He's a doctor there now, and they have been e-mailing on and off. He has invited him several times already. He hopes to find clarity there – and his friend knows him well, so maybe that will help him to find out where he's coming from and what he really wants. Then he intends to go to the UK for another ten days to sort things out there. He'll come back to Saint Marie then and take the last few days for regrouping and getting re-adjusted – and he hopes to have a clearer picture then. I wished him luck, and that's it."

With that, she let out a gigantic yawn and said "I'm totally knackered now. This has been a great day, but I'm really looking forward to going to bed now…"

When Camille had slipped under the sheets, she propped up on her elbow and looked at her husband who was sitting in bed, with his reading glasses on, deeply immersed in a book about the Tudors. With her left index finger she began to draw a pattern on his thigh to get his attention, and it didn't take her long to accomplish that goal. Richard sighed a little inwardly, put the book on the nightstand and took off his glasses, carefully placing them on top of the book. "What is it, Camille?" he asked gently.

She granted him a beguiling smile and asked "Richard… why did you… I mean, what made you kiss me like that in front of everyone?" He raised his eyebrows. "Didn't you like it?" he asked back, feigning disappointment.

She let her hand slide over his leg and said playfully "I don't think you'd believe me if I said I didn't… No, seriously," she looked up to him earnestly, "what I really want to know is… you've never been keen on public display of affection, and I thought you'd rather hide under a rock than kiss me like that when everybody is looking…"

He caught her hand before it could roam any further and said with a slightly crooked smile "The thing is, Camille, it was either do that or expose you and me to further challenges, innuendos and 'hints'… I'm tired of running away like that. Everybody knows I love you, and while I'm not keen on making a spectacular hullabaloo out of my affection, I figured it's time to shut them up. And pulling off that one-time-show seemed the best way to go. So, I thought of how I had kissed you when you left last Christmas… and that made it perfectly easy. If it didn't bother me back then what perfect strangers thought, why would it bother me now what our friends will think?"

She had listened with a smile, and when he asked "Are you satisfied now, or do you wish further details about my emotions when I kissed you?", she moved so she could put her arms around his neck and pull him closer. "You know what, why don't you show me?" she whispered, and he felt her lips caressing his face as she added "And mind you, I wonder if anything will be different now that we're officially blessed… want to find out?"

"I thought you were knackered?" he teased her.

"Oh, come on, Richard… didn't I say a few days ago that I'm never too exhausted for that?"

He laughed, and with a swift movement, he turned to the lamp on the nightstand and switched off the light before turning to Camille again…

The remainder of their holiday went by very quickly. They did lots of fun things, so the time passed in a rush.

They went for walks, visited the market stalls, had a picnic on the beach and spent time reading and chatting on the veranda of their bungalow. Camille went swimming while Richard solved some crossword puzzles – and watched her having fun in the sea.

They went to Guadeloupe with Margaret and Robert – who absolutely had wanted to go there once again – and also made a trip to Les Saintes, one of Guadeloupe's smaller islands. It was fun to explore, and even Camille, who had been to Les Saintes before, was surprised about all the little things they found out during their tour.

Of course, Camille and Richard visited Sister Marguerite in the convent and spent a lovely afternoon with her. She showed them the renovations and changes that had been made over the past years, and she even served them tea and a very tasty cake.

And then there was the barbecue with the Bests – once again, the entire team got together, and Camille saw how Richard enjoyed everybody's company. What a shame that they'd have to leave again so soon… but then again, maybe it was exactly the fact that all good things had to come to an end that made them all the more special?

It was during that barbecue that Florence finally opened up a little to Camille and let on how she was feeling about Humphrey. They talked about his forthcoming time off – the Commissioner had received notice that an Inspector Wilkins from another island would come over to step in for Humphrey. He had actually only arrived from the UK about a month ago, but the old Chief who had just retired had agreed on serving an extra month so Wilkins could cover during Humphrey's absence.

Humphrey was busy showing JP some 'magic' trick with cards, and Dwayne was trying to figure out how he did it. The two women were watching them for a moment, then Camille turned to Florence and said "You're going to miss him…"

Florence replied "Yes. But it might do us all good to get a little break. It's been a challenging time, Camille… in one way, it's been easier for me since you left because – well, because I could finally take on the responsibility and do things, if you know what I mean. And of course, it's been fun to spend time with the team. But I think I may have focused a little too much on the team and my work… because… well, I wanted to be there for him. I see now that Humphrey has become dependent on us, and he expects us to constantly make a song and a dance around him… He's so good, but he's relying on us literally constantly… I don't know if you can follow me?"

Camille nodded and said "Absolutely. It's like you have to spend time with him, otherwise he'll be sad – and you don't want that, of course. It's some subtle way of emotional blackmailing."

Florence looked a little shocked. But then she said "You may be right. I wouldn't have used that word, but well… Anyhow. I think I must focus more on myself again, and Humphrey needs space as well so he can find out where he stands in life. It's not good for either of us to spend nearly every evening together. It's all getting too close, you know..."

That was exactly how Camille had felt, so she could understand. A little hesitantly she asked "So, you haven't – er – taken a shine to him?" Florence sighed and said "I'd lie if I said I don't care about him. But I don't know if that's enough. I'm not sure about his feelings, either – and he seems unsure, too. I think I need to go my own way and let him find his – and then we'll see. You know, I might actually come to London later this year and take one of the courses at the Crime Academy… it would look good in my CV, and then, of course… London!"

Camille smiled. Florence would make her way. She had the right spirit. And she was right about Humphrey. He had to find out what he really wanted, and depending on what it was, they could take things from there.

Only two days later, Camille, Richard and his parents were on their way back to Paris. The goodbye had been tearful on all sides, but by the same token, all four Pooles were also glad to return to their everyday life.

As they got comfortable in their seats, Margaret said to her daughter-in-law "Thank you so much for letting us tag along, Camille… We had such a fun time, and I'm glad that I had the chance to return and make some nicer memories of the island… my last visit certainly wasn't so delightful!" Camille smiled and replied "It was lovely, wasn't it. I'm so glad you came with us… maybe we can do something like that again some time?" Robert snorted and said "Not before I've lost all the extra pounds I've packed on. Good grief, Camille, the food just is amazing in your part of the world…"

Camille couldn't help but laugh. Then she cuddled up to Richard who had cleared away the armrest between them and whispered "It will be good to be home again, Richard…" He smiled and said "Yes, it will…" He'd spend two more days with her in Paris while his parents would have to catch a connecting flight from Paris to London. They'd have enough time for the transit, though, so he wasn't worried about them.

"And are we going to Clacton this summer? Just the two of us? For a real honeymoon?" she asked. He took her hand and said "If that's what you want, yes… and maybe I'll even find a little caravan to rent…"

"Oh, it's going to be perfect!" With that, she moved closer to him and shut her eyes.

Richard smiled tenderly. Yes, everything was perfect as long as they were together.


End file.
